Review of 'Address Unknown'
By: Adrienne Onofri Jun. 11, 2004
After winning a Tony last Sunday, Assassins costar Michael Cerveris told the press: "I would like to personally invite every Republican [National Convention] delegate to come see our show." I'd recommend Address Unknown, particularly the scene where William Atherton's character explains why "the liberal is futile." Surely, the GOPers would cheer a comment like that—in fact, Atherton's monologue sounds to me like it could be a nominating speech for George W. Bush. We must support our leader as the country recovers from a disaster, Atherton insists. He praises his leader's decisive action: "a doer has risen." (Bush's decisiveness is a major talking point of his campaign.) "We rise in our might," he boasts. And in what resembles conservative pundits' defense of the Iraq prison torture, Atherton states: "We are cruel because all birth is brutal."
Which is not to say Address Unknown—based on a 1939 novel by American professor Kathrine Kressmann Taylor—does not distinguish itself theatrically. To begin with, there's a most unusual curtain-raising: a tarp covering the set, like bedsheets covering furniture during a housepainting, is electrically withdrawn. Revealed beneath is an elegant Art Deco study, which is actually two different studies: one belonging to Max Eisenstein of San Francisco; the other in the Munich home of Martin Schulse, Eisenstein's partner in the U.S. art gallery bearing their names. Atherton and Jim Dale portray Schulse and Max Eisenstein, whose friendship unravels after Schulse moves back to Germany with his family in 1932, just before Hitler's ascent. Incomprehensibly and unforgivably to his Jewish friend, Martin embraces Nazism—which ultimately has very personal ramifications for both men.
Adapter and director Frank Dunlop (who directed Dale's 1974 breakthrough, Scapino) has given the play a fair amount of action for a story told entirely through letters. Epistolary dramas can grow tedious due to their lack of movement; Address Unknown, on the other hand, becomes more engaging once it gets past the initial (expository) correspondences. The men read from letters that they both wrote and received, and they don't merely recite, but speak the words like regular dialogue. There's even a measure of interacting, as they occasionally go to the other's side of the stage, peering over a shoulder or otherwise reacting to the increasingly startling news from across the ocean. Eisenstein pours himself drinks and plays the Victrola; Schulse changes his clothes. The whole play lasts but 80 minutes.
In addition, Address Unknown does not follow the typical path of tales of life during the Nazi regime: Its characters are neither Hitler's targeted victims nor his vicious enforcers. Living in America, Eisenstein is safe; working in a bank, Schulse does not himself inflict the violence. But with a clever and unexpected act of revenge in the plot, and the potent work of Dunlop and his actors, the play stirs revulsion and sorrow in its audience all the same.
Dale and Atherton are well-matched in their intense yet natural performances. Subtly yet convincingly, Atherton lets compassion and affection drain from his character but—just as importantly—does not become so hateful that his demise would not give pause. Dale, compelling all along as he incredulously learns of his former friend's fate, concludes the play with a magnificent turn of emotion. It tells the audience: Everybody loses when a government functions on hate and fear. Another message for this country's leadership today.
At the Promenade Theatre, Broadway and 76th St.; call 212-239-6200 for tickets.
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