Theater Review—

‘Prayer For My Enemy’ Is Uniformly Terrific

By Julie Stern

NEW HAVEN — In  Prayer for My Enemy Craig Lucas has created an intense, ironic, multi-faceted drama which, in the span of ninety minutes with no intermission, embraces (among other topics) the War in Iraq, the dynamics of a family rendered dysfunctional by alcoholism and mental illness, the various barriers that exist to real communication, and the devastating effects of suppressed rage.

Long Wharf is currently giving this play its world premiere, with performances continuing until October 14.

On one level, Austin Noone is the “enemy” of his browbeaten family. Embittered by his experiences in Vietnam, and resentful of having passed up his own career plans to run his in-laws’ small town deli, Austin is a manic depressive alcoholic, who alternates between vituperative outbursts at his wife and children, and obsessive addiction to the television — especially Yankees baseball, and nature documentaries about elephants.

Constantly derided by his father for his lack of manliness, Austin’s son Billy joined the National Guard and is about to posted to Iraq. Daughter Marianne’s marriage falls apart when her husband deserts her after their son is diagnosed as autistic, and, in an effort to preserve some kind of harmony, Austin’s wife, Karen, affects a kind of Edith Bunker placidity, stifling her own anti-war views in order to appease Austin’s temper.

Two new characters are thrust into this state of affairs to provide dramatic momentum. The stoned looking Tad Voelkl, escaping his own failed marriage, drifts into the Noone family orbit. Back in high school — a time of sexual confusion — the popular Tad befriended and protected Billy. While not becoming lovers, they were each other’s “first love.”

Invited to Billy’s “send off to Iraq” party, Tad reconnects with Marianne, and becomes a fixture in the household.

Meanwhile, in a parallel dramatic monologue, Delores Endler, a prim little secretary, sweetly recounts how she has returned to this upstate village to care for her ailing mother, much to the annoyance of her psychoanalyst-fiancé, Charles. While Charles is a dedicated Manhattanite,  refusing to even consider Brooklyn, Delores is happily rediscovering the warmth of small town people who smile at strangers and take the trouble to learn your name.

Billy goes to Iraq, where we learn, through a devastating phone conversation with Tad, that he has been seriously wounded in a horrifying incident that killed his friend, as his sister, oblivious to what Tad is hearing, happily begs for the phone to tell her brother that he is going to become an uncle.

While Billy comes home to recuperate, Delores continues her monologue, changing before our eyes as the free flowing anger seething inside her begins to boil to the surface. Her language coarsens, her posture becomes more aggressive, and she becomes more obviously disconnected from the world, even as she dials 911 and is told “Your call is very important to us; please hold.”

At the same time, we discover that Austin, who had joined AA and stayed sober for the past six years, is making a genuine effort to follow the eight step, which urges members to “make a list of all the persons we had harmed, and become willing to make amends to them all.” Even as he explodes at his family, he follows up with a muttered apology and the admission that he was wrong.

The two seemingly disconnected plots hurtle toward an unexpected collision with dire consequences, which allow the playwright to assemble the random ideas which have only been hinted at, and forge them into a complex and resonating vision.

“Hell,” says Austin, “is the truth seen too late.”

Whether that applies to the damage family members inflict upon one another, or to the benign intentions misconstrued as deliberate cruelty, or to the misguided belief (in the wake of 9/11) that weapons of mass destruction existed in Baghdad, and so justified the American invasion, it is the essence of tragedy.

Loaded with emotional baggage that distorts their vision, people find themselves pressured into postures and actions which impact their lives. In an imaginary monologue of his own, Austin tries to tell Billy that he does love and respect him, and that like his own anger, killing people in a war is not an appropriate expression of manliness. It is more a reaction to one’s own pain, and as such, something that will perpetuate an endless cycle of violence and vengeance.

In a society that all too often puts cries for help on hold with the robotic voiced assurance that “your call is important” we need to understand that the first step to expiating our hate and pain is to find the patience to forgive, and to pray, even for our enemies.

The acting, the directing, and the staging for this powerful and thought provoking drama were all uniformly superb.