"THIS SIDE OF ANGELS" at Breadline Theatre
BY LUCIA MAURO
One of the ambiguous angelic figures in Paul Kampf’s faith-based drama, "This Side of Angels" – receiving its world premiere at Breadline Theatre – makes an explosive statement about how we are scared to death of accepting the fact that we can’t make sense out of anything. The character, Avery, is referring to humankind’s insistence on seeking answers to the meaning of life and holding on to ideals that promise an afterlife.
When the playwright streamlines his work to the pros and perils of faith, "This Side of Angels" takes brisk ideological flight. But, for most of this 140-minute ethical exploration of possibilities outside our grasp, Kampf layers an excess of compelling ideas that ultimately alienate us from what should be his central theme: the more damaging side of hope, even within a framework of hope’s redeeming power. The story, while an intriguing one, gets cluttered with too many conflicting ideas.
"This Side of Angels" opens with a plane crash in which one man – Jason Wells – is the sole survivor. Since the plane seemed to have exploded and plunged into the ocean, his chances of survival were nil. But, when Jason has flashbacks of being carried away by angels and even sees the deceased passengers walk the earth, he believes he has been called to return the world to faith in a higher power. A reluctant modern-day burden bearer, and Christ figure, Jason abandons his middle-class life (and supportive pregnant wife Linda) to move into a flea-bag apartment, where the suffering masses line up to be touched by his healing power.
Like Jesus in Gethsemani, Jason secretly longs to be freed of this obligation of saving humanity. But he forges on – suffering a certain psychological death as more people demand the hope he represents.
But instead of exploring the notion of being saved and the desperation with which people cling to redemption, Kampf weaves in too many intersecting subplots. The recurring character of the Broadcaster from the "Miracle Network" represents the lucrative business of faith and the hypocrisy of religious fanaticism – along with the overall media frenzy surrounding so-called miracles (like weeping icons or the Shroud of Turin, a heavy-handed symbol here).
The sinister Broadcaster, however, is too obvious a target. And it’s quite clear from the central story alone that, while some people flock to Jason to be cured, many think he’s crazy and a hoax. After all, if a Savior came to earth today, would anyone really believe it?
Also woven in is the story of Jason’s mother, who witnessed her own personal miracle when her husband (who turns out to be the Avery angel figure) survived a savage beating and exhibited healing powers.
This incident is related to a street preacher, who serves a confusing purpose. Is he the man who attacked Jason’s father many years ago; is he an earlier version of Jason, but a chosen one whose time has run out?; is he one of many fallen angels?; is he Lucifer?; or does he represent the need for evil in a Blakean sense so that good has a counterpart against which to be measured? All of these ideas are fascinating. There are just too many to be contained in this drama.
Yet "This Side of Angels," once audiences can push away the extraneous pondering, has at its core a provocative and timeless message – one that applies to anyone who takes great pains to convince himself or herself of miracles. Think of how common it is to attribute a coincidence to "a sign from above," or regard a certain sort of harmonic convergence as something that’s "meant to be."
Kampf dares to explore the less ethereal side of hope. In the play, Jason’s life is saved but the price he must pay is to have the life sucked out of him by those in need of justifying their own flawed faith. He points out a very fine line between hope and delusion; truth and lies – and delusion as a survival mechanism.
James Bagnall, while a committed director, struggles to contain the more unwieldy aspects of the script (which still needs to be tightly streamlined). This is a wobbly staging, exacerbated by excessive black-outs that bog down the pacing.
As Jason, Jeremy Shouldis delivers a subtle and anguished (but, at times, soulless) performance. Jo Jones is impressive as his grounded yet troubled mother Ruth. Heather Carpenter, although a bit over-earnest as Jason’s frustrated wife Linda, takes her character to a sturdier and quieter place as the work progresses.
Alzan Pelesic as Jason’s Eastern European landlord Kobak and Larry Orr as Avery give measured and honest performances. As the street preacher, Warren Jackson is appropriately charismatic, but his enraged emotions often get the best of him; and Michael Rashid’s Broadcaster is too cartoonishly oily.
Instead of toggling the mortal and spiritual worlds, Marc Chevalier’s multipurpose sets – framed by church cloister-style arches – display an uncomfortable patched-together quality. His heavenly lighting hammers home a visual cliché. And Wm. Eric Bramlett’s sound design goes overboard with the satiric celestial humming.
This is obviously a work of deep thought and takes a refreshing approach to the usual one-dimensional view of the faith conundrum. But I couldn’t help thinking that the premise was reminiscent of everything from "The Dead Zone" to "Wings of Desire" to "Heaven Can Wait" to "Touched by an Angel." And an excess of inter-related stories threatens to cancel out the most daring and paradoxical idea in the script: the life-draining force of faith, yet our unquenchable thirst for the comfort faith provides.•
"This Side of Angels" runs through March 2 at Breadline Theatre, 1802 W. Berenice. Tickets: $10-$15. Call 773-327-6096 or log onto www.breadline.org.
