A magnificent performance about a magnificent person distinguishes a vehicle that, despite author William Gibson's attempts at an innovative structure, falls somewhat short as a play. Indeed, what is basically a narrative goes all over the map, both literally and figuratively. The "action" is likely to confuse anyone unaware of the history involved, perhaps also people who are.
Assuring there'll be no suspense, Gibson has Meir equate the term "survival" with "Jewish." In an atypical flashback, the play starts in Golda Meir's dying days as crowned by the dangerous ways she had to handle the Yom Kippur attack on Israel in 1973 and subsequent war. But then it scrambles back and forth among her childhood in the Soviet Union, introduction to Zionism (bound up with meeting her husband Morris), a previous escape from her Milwaukee home to her sister's and then brief independence in Denver, and largely, various times in various places in Israel, but with periodic trips to the U.S. and global centers on Israel's behalf. Whew! By the time she's part of the unofficial Jewish government, her audience is likely to be exhausted. Yet Kate Alexander's Golda is so deeply into "survival" mode, she seems to be just getting started. That may be because her account of raising money in 1948 to bring the Jewish army and supplies up to facing the imminent Arab threat revives interest and intensifies it.
Some of Golda's rememberances really stand out: A young boy named Mordecai pressed into her hands a paper bouquet, which she saved and brings out after he later dies in battle. What an aftermath when Morris, upon receiving real money instead of script when they were in debt and could hardly get food, brought home a silk lampshade. How Golda did love to live and work on a kibbutz! How vividly she describes secretly meeting with Abdullah of Jordan and her reasons for not submitting Israel to be a part of that nation. Unfortunately, Golda's showdown with Kissinger -- who sent arms for Israel to counter the Egyptian threat only after the Jews threatened atomic defense -- constitutes a dramatic crisis that comes too late and too long. Without the projection of powerful illustrations of conventional tactical difficulties, the threat would have seemed tamer than it was. Production trumps script!
In setting both moods and locations, Phil Monat's lighting is crucial, varied, appropriate. Director Terence Lamude uses to every possible advantage it and Nayna Ramey's differently shaped staging levels with backdrops for designs, photos and paintings. The ones showing actual personnages such as Ben-Gurion, Elazar, Dayan reinforce mentions of Golda's interactions with them.
The set allows Kate Alexander to roam with her story. In two spots are boxes from which Golda draws objects of importance to it. Her most touching moments are fittingly recalled down center. With body and hair heavily padded, Alexander moves naturally. She's the mistress of effective bits like turning her jacket into an apron or a cradled baby. And though her head and clothes and complexion are gray, she comes through as colorfully as Golda Meir did in life. If that lady neglected her family for Israel and all its families, well, Alexander certainly helps Gibson to make that understandable. In addition to this performance, current events make good reasons to see Golda's Balcony at FST.
