MCT's "Indecent" is a Beautiful Tragedy of Love and Language

The opening moments of Milwaukee Chamber Theatre’s luminous play, Indecent, may elicit gasps from the audience. Bursting onto the stage in a joyful, if somewhat disoriented reunion, the actors seem to come suddenly, abruptly, back to life, as if rising from their graves. Like the storyteller in An Iliad, and the gods in Hadestown, this group of Eastern European Jewish actors from the turn of the century is destined to act out their complicated story of love, language, identity, and persecution over and over again, always hoping for a new ending. Directed with creativity and compassion by MCT Artistic Director Brent Hazelton, Paula Vogel’s Tony Award-winning play runs through March 27 in the Cabot Theatre in the Broadway Theatre Center. And it is simply stunning.

The action begins on a bare, wooden stage flanked with the stark footlights of vaudeville. (Minimalist scenic design by Madelyn Yee and stylized, affecting lighting design by Noele Stollmack.) Stage curtains of varying quality hang askew, failing to cover up the cinderblock wall at the back of the stage. A few chairs and tables form the most basic set pieces and weathered, vintage suitcases are the recurring props. With a three-person klezmer band (violin, clarinet, and accordion) accompanying the cast during musical transitions, and a nimble ensemble of seven extraordinary actors, Indecent tells an expansive story about the Polish/Jewish playwright Sholem Asch and the theater troupe whose lives were irrevocably changed by their experience producing the controversial play God of Vengeance in the early 20th century.

In 1923 the play caused a scandal when it appeared on Broadway, after a successful run on stages all over Europe and in New York’s Greenwich Village. Translated from Yiddish to English for its move uptown, the production was shut down and its cast arrested on obscenity charges stemming from the “immorality” of its Jewish characters, including a brothel owner and his stable of prostitutes, and Broadway’s first lesbian kiss. Some heralded it as genius, while others, including prominent members of the Jewish community, wanted to burn every copy.

In 2017 the play with music, Indecent, also caused a stir. It was Paula Vogel’s first production on Broadway, after a brilliant writing and teaching career that included virtually every playwriting accolade imaginable, including a Pulitzer Prize. Using the long, strange trip of God of Vengeance as its frame, the play weaves in and out of 50 years of tumultuous history that includes censorship, anti-Semitism, homophobia, the dark side of the immigrant experience in America, nativism that shamed newcomers for speaking their own language, European pogroms, and the rise of Hitler. Asch’s lifelong struggle, questioning his own culpability for the persecution of Jews in America and Europe, is a haunting refrain.

The agile cast members play 40 different roles, some for a moment, some as recurring characters, and some as touchstones to the story, differentiated with a coat, a scarf, or a necklace. (Lovely, spare costume design by Kim Instenes.) The entire ensemble is able to shift accents, attitudes, and nationalities in an instant, moving the action forward, quickly and fluidly, with projections in English and Yiddish as a guide for the audience. And like a good vaudeville troupe, the players show off their skills in song and dance, segueing between scenes with examples of typical theatrical fare of the period. Silly songs and exaggerated, stylized movements are juxtaposed with the beautiful naturalism of the romance at the center of God of Vengeance — illustrated with the discovery of young love during a summer rainstorm. It’s a scene that was compared to the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet and rightly so. Rarely have two lovers connected with such purity and passion.

As the former tailor from rural Poland, Jim Ridge’s Lemml is the chief storyteller, bringing us to the first reading of the daring new play in a posh salon, and traveling with the production of God of Vengeance from its opening night to the trouple’s final performance. More faithful to this play than the author or producers, more awed by its transformative beauty, more protective of the cast, and more outraged by script changes to dumb it down for a white, middle class, American audience, his passion leads us through the action, all the way through to the ghettos and concentration camps of the 1940s. And the play could not have a better champion. Ridge’s joy of discovery washes over his body at the first reading. His pride as the play receives acclaim nourishes his spirit and puffs up his chest ever so slightly. His disappointment in the actions of the playwright is crushing — bitterness that hangs on Ridge like a heavy coat. Seeing his last wish made real — an escape for two of the play’s beloved characters — is no less than a precious gift.

In contrast to Lemml’s unwavering devotion to God of Vengeance, the author’s relationship to his work – and to the world – suffers more and more with each scene. Portrayed thoughtfully and heart wrenchingly by Josh Krause, Asch’s exuberant outlook as a young playwright is tested, and then trampled on as his unique, fearless voice is pummeled by the reality of life off-stage. Poorly translated, misunderstood, accused of harming his own people while simultaneously being silenced as he raises the alarm about growing violence against Jews in Europe, Asch retreats into his own world. He is paralyzed and betrayed by language instead of using it to greet the bright new world of his youth. When a doctor suggests committing him to cure his melancholy, the broken despair on Krause’s face melds with absurdity and the audience knows he will not recover.

As actresses Halina and Chana, Elyse Edelman and Rachael Zientek share some of the most powerful scenes in the show; women in love portraying characters in love. We see their relationship begin, grow, go through turmoil, reconcile, and then become eternal in the fully realized “rain scene,” which is rightfully saved for the final, transformative moments of the show. Both accomplished actors seen frequently on stages around Wisconsin, Edelman and Zientek approach their scenes, and each other, with gorgeous clarity and tenderness, mingled with giddiness and devotion. It is difficult to think of another romantic pairing onstage that is so moving and so bittersweet.

Several important supporting characters are portrayed with specificity and nuance by Eric Damon Smith — from the slick Broadway producer who demands changes to the play to make it more marketable, to the Irish cop sent to arrest the troupe of actors for obscenity, to the rabbi who rails against the play as an attack on Judaism, to the desperate Polish writer who first scoffs at Asch’s work, then uses his connection with the playwright as he pleads with immigration officials from an array of countries, begging for a visa to escape from Europe. Smith’s face and physicality transform with each new role, and ironically, it is his lines in languages that the audience doesn’t understand that are the most compelling.

While the stage manager Lemml admits in the opening scene that he can’t remember the end of the play he’s about to present to us, the audience will have no such trouble. Indecent is a landmark achievement for the company. And it is truly unforgettable.

Post Script: The More Things Change . . .

As I drove in to Milwaukee to see Paula Vogel’s extraordinary play, NPR interviewed two mothers of transgender children in Texas, who may now be charged with child abuse, for allowing them to simply be who they are. Meanwhile, my Facebook feed was filling up with posts protesting the new Florida law that prohibits schools from discussing gender and sexuality issues with students. And this week Time Magazine featured an article acknowledging that many TV shows now feature gay and trans characters, but their portrayals are hopelessly shallow and one-note.

This is all to say that this century-old story is, unfortunately, more relevant than ever.