Who would have thought a play about trying to assure that one's religion and its practitioners survive could be so exhilarating? Happily, Florida Studio Theater and other venues in the National New Play Network have. Thus, Two Jews Walk into a War is surviving past its debut. I think it also has a future. I've seen few works so specific and yet universal in appeal, so seriously timely and yet as humorously timeless as vaudeville characters doing turns of comic schtick.
The two titular Jews, survivors of Taliban persecution, are in what's left of their synagogue. The rabbi has died and left them the task of reviving their religion in Kabul. Not all that religious and certainly not Orthodox, Zeblyan (Warren Kelley, playing obviously thoughtful and worldly as can be) still plies his carpet trade by day. Making his home in the ruins, Ishaq (elder-to-the-core and authoritarian as interpreted by George Tynan Crowley) wants only to rebuild Kabul's Jewish population and its traditional place of worship.
Competing even on the basis of how much each man and his family have suffered from being Jewish, Zeblyan and Ishaq proclaim how much they hate each other. Yet they agree to cooperate in rebuilding Judaism in Kabul.
As a starter, they must replace the synagogue's stolen Torah. Prescient Ishaq has memorized all of it, even to the punctuation. Zelyan will traditionally hand-write what Ishaq dictates. Accomplishing the task is a metaphorical walk into another war, of conflicting personalities, attitudes and beliefs. It leads to an ever-growing mound of discarded parchment (butcher shop meat-wrap). It strays from physical writing of the text to questioning the meanings of words, subjects (often specified animals), but most importantly, dictates. What's the sense of, and in, all these?
Conversations cover everything the Torah brings up, from sexual practices to the nature of God. Clashes mostly represent reason vs. faith and individual vs. collective transgressions, punishments and deservings of mercy. Haggling is both serious and hilarious.
Kate Alexander's superb direction results in performances with nary a misstep. What could have been mere repetition comes off like cinema, each scene building like the piles of discarded scrolls. Marcella Beckwith's set conjures an atmosphere of exterior war and interior struggle, aided immeasurably by Robert Perry's resourceful lighting. Susan Angermann's costumes well reflect their wearers' personalities and situations.
Small wonder Rozin's play, designated for a two-week run, has provoked enough interest to warrant a week of extension. FST's production deserves a full engagement.
