Miller’s satire falls shy of redemption

SAN DIEGO — “In comedies there are no heroes,” says a young woman in Arthur Miller’s supposedly funny “Resurrection Blues,” at the Old Globe. That she herself is portrayed in somewhat heroic terms indicates the conflicting missions of this recent play by America’s greatest living playwright.

Miller calls the play a satire, but most good satires are merciless. In “Resurrection Blues,” Miller takes mercy on his characters; he even suggests that one of them might be divine.

The program for “Resurrection Blues” quotes Miller on the playwriting process: “On the one hand, I didn’t want to leave it in a chaotic state. And on the other, I didn’t want to tie it down too strictly to a usual dramatic form.”

Well, he certainly hasn’t tied it down. Mark Lamos’ staging is the play’s third major production -- it opened at Minnesota’s Guthrie Theater in 2002. But the play is still flailing in several directions and not wholly achieving its goals.

It’s set in “a faraway country” where the ruling class has French- or German-sounding names but where Spanish has been the main language since the conquistadores. Look closely at the imposing blood-red walls of Riccardo Hernandez’s set and you can read small-print text, in Spanish, of what looks like excerpts from the Venezuelan constitution. But Miller isn’t writing about a specific country.

The military dictator, Felix Barriaux, is the play’s best example of satire. He plans to literally crucify a messianic leader who is inspiring rebellion. He’s licking his chops at the $75 million (up from $25 million in the Guthrie production) that an American ad agency has offered for the rights to televise the event. (Miller wrote this before millions of people began watching the gory details of another crucifixion in “The Passion of the Christ.”)

Felix suffers, perhaps too predictably, from raging impotence in bed -- but he keeps trying to conquer his problem. John de Lancie has fun playing Felix. The glint in his eye and the lightness of his repartee are a gleeful counterpoint to Felix’s policies.

The anguished courier who delivers the ad agency’s offer is Felix’s cousin and boyhood chum Henri Schultz, a pharmaceuticals heir who now teaches philosophy in the First World. Daniel Davis’ Henri dresses as a bohemian cliche and disdains -- in plummy mid-Atlantic English -- the crucifixion and its commercial exploitation. He is so appalled that one wonders why he ever consented to convey the ad agency’s offer.

Henri’s daughter (Dana Slamp) has been a leader of the rebel forces fighting her uncle. But since her capture and a botched suicide attempt, she’s an invalid who’s finally getting to know her long-lost father. She’s so noble that she sabotages the play’s satiric impulses.

The other rebel (Bruce Bohne) who appears on stage is dressed and speaks like an aging ‘60s hippie, which imparts a dated quality to the satire.

The American crew sent to televise the crucifixion includes a crass producer (Chris Henry Coffey) and two women -- a conflicted director (Jennifer Regan) and a sound technician -- whose pregnancies briefly distract attention, only to be dropped from further discussion.

The director’s haircut improbably rejuvenates the dictator’s libido. After he falls for her, she pressures him to cancel the crucifixion -- though it might torpedo her career.

Except for the dictator and producer, the other main characters have altruistic motives that take the play into discursive detours while its comic brio flags.

The proposed crucifixion victim appears only as a glowing light. Despite eyewitness accounts of his human form, he may be divine or at least an inspired figment of the imagination, Miller suggests. He must decide whether to be crucified or to disappear.

This is an interesting tangent, but it further removes the play from the nitty-gritty of the political realities that drove Miller to write. His continuing sense of adventure at age 88 is awe-inspiring, but the play itself isn’t.

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‘Resurrection Blues’

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Where: Old Globe Theatre, Balboa Park, San Diego

When: Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Sundays, 7 p.m.; Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Saturdays-Sundays, 2 p.m.

Ends: April 25

Price: $19-$52

Contact: (619) 239-2255

Running Time: 2 hours, 25 minutes

John de Lancie...Felix Barriaux

Daniel Davis...Henri Schultz

Dana Slamp...Jeanine

Jennifer Regan...Emily Shapiro

Chris Henry Coffey...Skip L. Cheeseboro

Bruce Bohne...Stanley

Jenni-Lynn McMillin...Sarah

Michael Doyle...Phil

Neil Shah...Police Captain

By Arthur Miller. Directed by Mark Lamos. Set by Riccardo Hernandez. Costumes by Lewis Brown. Lighting by York Kennedy. Sound by Paul Peterson. Stage manager Leila Knox.