I went to see Tim Ruddy’s play, The International, without knowing or reading anything about it except that I was told it had won awards and had international scope. I thought maybe I was going to hear the Communist song “The International” interpreted by different viewpoints. Nope. It’s a series of monologues by three actors with no interaction about a conflict in a not-clearly defined country.
A woman in a Muslim headscarf (Carey van Driest) and an unbroken smile, laughingly starts to tell of painful experiences in her country. A Dutch man (Timothy Carver) joins the army. There is mention of a tank coming at him. My companion, Barbara Horn, former head of the Theater Department at St. John’s University and author of eight published books on theater, and I both thought we were listening to a World War II account. We realized later that “The International Force” was the ineffective United Nations Peacekeeping force. An American “good ole boy” with money problems (Ted Schneider in a totally believable portrayal) and home focus is introduced; he needs money to take his kids to Disneyland.
The whole piece is confusing as to dates and country – the drink Raki is mentioned, so I thought we were in Turkey. There is no mention of Bosnia in the program. Enemy forces attacking refugees wear blue shirts. Cynical Americans learn about the conflict by watching the suffering of refugees on TV, and ultimately begin to bet on which side will win -- like watching a football game. The Dutchman, part of the UN peacekeeping force, notes that at a time of particular brutality, UN jets fly over but do nothing. As we near the end, the woman’s recounting of the terrible brutality towards men, women and children shifts into sobbing delivery that obscures words, and the Dutchman rises to an overwrought, over-the-top outcry.
Whether it be the fault of director Christopher Randolph or of the performers themselves, at times during their monologues the actors look directly into the eyes of audience members as if talking to them personally. That is always disconcerting.
The set by James Maloff is a series of large paintings with billowing brownish clouds with splashes of red, perhaps symbolizing the Earth with blood on it. Lighting by Derek Van Heel is just fine. So what do we learn? There is great suffering as displaced people are shuffled about; the UN is ineffective; Americans are indifferent, unfeeling, selfish bastards.
