How I despised those TV commercials showing people walking out of a movie or play, a camera suddenly forced upon them, their gut reactions eagerly sought by on-the-spot pseudo Public Relations journalists. “It was wonderful!” the patrons exclaim. “The best thing I’ve seen in ages!” The few self-appointed instant critics who don’t sound moronic - sound phony, affected, and at least momentarily starstruck by the thought that their hyperbolic drivel might land them five seconds on a television ad.
At the end of a preview performance of Gordon Rayfield’s new drama, Bitter Friends at the Jewish Rep, the man sitting next to me noticed my strong applause and asked if I’d say a few words about the play into his running tape recorder. He identified himself as a columnist for the Jerusalem Post and asked for my opinion regarding the politically charged piece. I sat dumbfounded for a moment, trying to collect my jumbled thoughts and hoping to phrase my feelings in a cogent, intelligent manner.
What came out was gibberish. Oh sure, I snuck in bits about how the play sharply dealt with complex issues, how often I’d been surprised and almost shocked at the heartfelt depth of the ideas expressed, how more works aimed at a Jewish audience (or any audience, for that matter) should tackle hard problems with this much sensitivity and anger, how Bitter Friends should move to a larger off-Broadway venue as soon as possible. But even these rather obvious remarks were probably lost in a gush of torrential panic. I sounded like those very same victims who step out of the theater into a wash of minicams and klieg lights and are then expected to collect their thoughts instantly, after spending two hours in darkness, grappling with someone’s artistic vision. In fact, I sounded much worse than TV people, since I was unready to formulate a meaningful opinion, and fragmentary ideas tumbled over themselves and out of my mouth before I could sort them out. That’s why I’m a writer. So I can get my thoughts down and tell you why Bitter Friends is a play to be seen, shared, and argued about.
David Klein, an American, a Jew, and a Zionist, was brought up to believe that the answer to all questions regarding Judaism involved the survival of the state of Israel. To that end, any action aiding the holy land’s security becomes a heroic and noble deed. Upset by the United States government’s unkept promise to provide Israel with crucial weapons for its defense, David takes matters into his own hands: he spies on the U.S. and delivers secret documents to Israel.
Caught, arrested, and facing life imprisonment, David’s only hope is to turn in his accomplice -- a way of proving that his spying was the personal act of a lone political radical and not a result of coercion or instigation by the Israeli government. The idea of Israel spying on its best friend, the United States, is so disturbing that David finds himself abandoned by both governments who want nothing more than to sweep the incident under the rug. Even the rank and file of American jewry won’t rally to David’s aid because the moral implications of dual loyalty are far more complex than shouting “Never again!” at neo-Nazis or “Let our people go!” at the Soviet Union. Abandoned by his nations and understandably wary of the few people trying unsuccessfully to help him, David becomes a victim, a hero, a traitor, and a fool, all at once.
The well-phrased pessimism of last year’s political hit, A Walk in the Woods, pales before the fiery ping-pong of ideas constantly erupting in Bitter Friends. Every argument is instantly hit with a counter-argument, and then a third point of view after that. The play doesn’t ask us to root for David (after all, he is a traitor), but to analyze the positions of everyone involved, weighing the degrees of their logic, humanity, and political necessity. To that end, Rabbi Schaeffer, a friend of the Klein family, steps outside the play as commentator to offer jokes and provocative biblical anecdotes that soon become as painfully complex as the events themselves.
Mr. Rayfield’s play is on somewhat less steady ground with its backstory. We can believe that David’s Zionist martyrdom stems from his father’s own zealotry, but it’s a bit too convenient having the senior Klein killed by an Arab terrorist attack. I was also unconvinced by the sudden rage of David’s wife and mother when they discover David might not have acted purely on his own impulses. It’s understandable for the governments to find the idea upsetting, but since David’s political motivation remains the same no matter what, the actual details of his espionage should have little bearing on his family’s view of him.
With lesser actors, Mr. Rayfield’s heady dialogue might turn ponderous or melodramatic, but director Allen Coulter has chosen the strongest ensemble cast I’ve seen this year. Ben Siegler never begs for sympathy as the misguided Mr. Klein. He even adds a touch of madness and controlled hysteria to the character, making David’s scenes in prison more disturbing and his final choice more believable.
As David’s wife Rachel, Farryl Lovett invests what might have been a stock, secondary part with a combination of sexiness, urgency, and pain -- a welcome change from the stoicism usually called for in such roles. As Rabbi Schaeffer, the diplomat who makes the mistake of getting personally involved, Sam Gray’s technique is sometimes a bit calculated, but his work is professional throughout, and he easily rises to the level of the material in the play’s taut latter passages.
Yosi Sokolsky brings to mind a less volatile Maximilian Schell, and he’s just right as Ezra Ben-Ami, the charming Israeli Ambassador/Puppet. As a snot-nosed yuppie VIP, Dan Pinto slightly over-accentuates the dislikable qualities of his character (think of Alex P. Keaton without the vulnerability), which at first obscures the fact that the U.S. Defense Department’s position is just as tenable as that of the Israeli government. Pinto is a commanding presence, though, and he revs up the tension of every scene in which he appears. Also strong are Viola Harris as David’s brittle mother and Bill Nelson as a sympathetic congressman.
Allen Coulter’s staging is effective although hampered by obtrusive ambient sound. If audio designers Gary and Timmy Harris want to establish that a scene takes place in a restaurant, there’s nothing wrong with having taped clinking glasses and conversational mumbles in the background, but the volume should be potted way down once the dialogue begins. The synthesized musical strings are also unnecessary.
Otherwise, Bitter Friends is a grabber. Gordon Rayfield’s sense of drama transcends ethnic boundaries as it struggles to find answers to impossible questions. Chu Chem and Cantorial, two previous JRT productions, are already on their way to Broadway. This play may be too serious for the Great White Way, but it deserves to move to a larger off-Broadway venue as soon as possible -- assuming the production would be carried off with the same intelligence, talent, and quality it is currently receiving at the Jewish Rep.
