Playwright: John Hancock and Dorothy Tristan, based on the book by Sam Roberts
At: Hancock Productions at Theatre Building Chicago, 1225 W. Belmont
Phone: 773-327-5252; $30
Runs through: Nov. 18
BY MARY SHEN BARNIDGE
The publicity for this page-to-stage docudrama calls it a 'spy thriller,' but since investigative journalist Sam Roberts focuses—as he should—on the facts, there's not much suspense to be found in his exploration of the events surrounding the arrest, conviction and execution in 1953 of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg for the crime of espionage. Even if you slept through history class, you are probably aware that the husband and wife were wrongfully condemned, amid international protest ( even the Pope pleaded on behalf of the Jewish couple ) . You know this because Roy Cohn ( boo! hiss! ) was the prosecuting attorney and anything he was mixed up in had to be crooked, right?
That Roberts' focus is David Greenglass—the American soldier who stole classified information regarding the United States' development of nuclear weapons, and whose testimony sealed the fate of his sister and brother-in-law—adds little to our understanding of the controversy: before the fall of the Soviet Union terminated its threat to national security, records of relations therewith were prey to government censorship ( both theirs and ours ) . And, as Greenglass reminds us, he expects to be paid for his confession. And good money requires a good story.
That said, John Hancock and Dorothy Tristan's
adaptation hits all the right buttons in its account of cause célébre martyrdom, painting us a portrait of an almost-preternaturally simple man, moved by a primitive concept of what would later be called 'balance of power,' but content to let others do the heavy thinking—in particular, the know-it-all Julius, whose embrace of 'spy game' glamour made him an easy target for the hostile attentions of a government infected with cold-war paranoia.
But was Greenglass a weasel who sold out his kin to save himself, or just a shlep manipulated by shtarkers? Robert Breuler's performance maintains the enigma of his character's motives, cued by Bill Bannon's Roberts, and flanked by Anthony Tournis and Justine Serino as the heroic Rosenbergs ( their deaths given operatic scope, literally, by sound designer Joseph Fosco ) .
Ultimately, however, this two-hour inquest boils down to a deceptively-casual exchange following a comment regarding the absence of Jews on the jury at the Rosenberg trial. 'Would it have helped?' asks Roberts, to which Greenglass shrugs, 'Who knows?' Chafing under the tensions of our own time, who can foresee what will change the course of history?