Past Reviews

Regional Reviews: Minneapolis/St. Paul

Bent
Geki Arts with Bryant Lake Bowl Cabaret Theater
Review by Arthur Dorman | Season Schedule

Also see Arty's reviews of Ballast and Fool for Love


Adam Rider and Daniel Redfield
Photo by Savannah Thunder
A recent production of Martin Sherman's Bent staged at Bryant Lake Bowl Cabaret Theater by Geki Arts was noteworthy for three reasons. One is that the gay concentration camp plot, which dates back to 1979 in a production notable for casting then-rising film star Richard Gere in the lead, still has something to say to us in 2017. Second, Bent, though little known, is a good play, with believable characters and a well-written dramatic arc that keeps the audience on edge. Finally, and perhaps most impressive, the youthfulness of everyone involved in this production. The oldest of them is 23, and several of the actors as well as director Thomas Bertron are still in high school. That this gathering of young talent would even attempt the challenges of mounting Bent is commendable. That they would do so with such skill, insight and conviction is astonishing.

The first act is set in 1934 and introduces us to Max and Rudy, two young men living together in Berlin. Rudy is a dancer with a sensitive soul, deeply in love with Max, while Max, the disinherited son of an industrialist, lives by his wits and is prone to drink himself into oblivion and invite strange men (or groups of them) into his bed. When one of those men turns out to be the target of a hunt by the Gestapo, Max and Rudy find themselves in jeopardy. Their struggle to come up with money for the rent is overshadowed by their struggle to avoid capture themselves. Fate is not with them, and they are soon on a train bound for Dachau. When Rudy's life is threatened by their guards, a prisoner named Horst offers advice to Max that helps him survive the journey.

The second act takes place entirely in the yard of the Dachau concentration camp. Max has been given a sadistic job, carrying large stones from a pile on one side of the yard to the other, then carrying them back, to and fro, for the entire day, day after day, an exhausting and absurd burden that Max believes is intended to drive him crazy. Horst soon joins him, becoming his comrade in this weird torture, the two of them under the scrutiny of two ever-watchful guards. Horst wears the inverted pink triangle given to gay prisoners. Max, though not Jewish, wears the yellow Star of David. Having learned that homosexuals are considered the lowest among the low in status by their Nazi captors, Max, ever the wheeler-dealer, was able to "trade up" to be classified as a Jew. Horst is offended by this, knowing the truth about Max, but Max is steeled to be a survivor. He will not allow feelings to get in the way.

Still, over the course of changing seasons, spanning a few years, the relationship between Max and Horst deepens. This, despite the fact that they sleep in different barracks, cannot touch one another, can look at one another only with occasional discreet glances, and are constantly being watched by guards whose own humanity has been erased, calling on the two men as "You, pervert!" and "You, Jew!" That Max and Horst manage to form a bond under these conditions, one that includes sexual gratification—one of the most brilliantly written scenes of a sexual encounter I have ever seen on stage bears this out—is a testament to the human spirit and the will to find meaning, however unlikely it may be in life.

Director Thomas Bertron is certainly a credit to the high school he attends, St. Paul Conservatory for Performing Arts, a charter school authorized by Ordway Center for the Performing Arts. Bertron kept the atmosphere highly charged, first by wanton sexuality, then by wanton cruelty and humiliation. The relationships between characters were well etched, especially meeting the challenge of establishing the ineffable connection between Max and Horst. Bryant Lake Bowl's small stage was somewhat confining, but Bertron used the space well. The intrusive sounds coming at intervals from the bowling lanes in the next room actually added to the sense of lives being lived under the din of a noisy and indifferent world.

Bertron assembled a talented creative team to support his production. Nathaniel Davis' sound design and musical score provided the context of an increasingly heartless and horrifying world. Talia Wendtland designed effective costumes, with what must have been a very limited budget. Fight choreographer Chloe Janisch did an impressive job of staging a particularly disturbing scene of violence that is both horrifying and heartbreaking.

The young cast was similarly affecting, especially Adam Rider as Max, Johnny Stang as Horst, and Sage Ftacek as Rudy. Rider was able to display Max's faith in his ability to wheel and deal his way through the horror around him, as well as his fear of allowing love into his life. Stang showed Horst's pride and tenderness as sources of inner strength, while effectively depicting the steady loss of physical stamina. Ftacek portrayed Rudy's fragility and dependency, yet gave him the courage to claim his love. In a smaller role, Clay Man Soo lacked the gravitas that would have made Max's closeted Uncle Freddie a stronger presence, perhaps the drawback of a youth portraying an older character.

Mackenzie Diggins played Greta, a cabaret performer and friend to Max and Rudy who helps them escape, for a time, from the Gestapo, but her character seemed to lack any emotional response to the dread that had seeped into her world. In the original production of Bent, Greta was played by a male actor. At the end of a scene in which Greta conveys a fatalistic acceptance of the new order, she removes her wig—which, as originally written, would have shown her to be a male in drag. In Geki Arts' production, she removed a severe black wig to reveal herself—a blonde! The impact of the act is lost in this, a small misstep in a generally well-wrought production.

By setting Bent in 1934, playwright Sherman linked it to the historical record. For fifteen years before that, Ernst Rohm was Adolf Hitler's close friend and political advisor. He helped Hitler to realize his political potential and transform the Brownshirt militia into a force to reckon with. Hitler certainly knew that Rohm was a practicing homosexual, and it is thought that because of Rohm's influence, gay life was left unmaligned by the Nazi movement—until June 30, 1934, the "Night of the Long Knives," when, to appease the regular army, whose support he needed, Hitler approved the murder of Rohm along with dozens of officers loyal to Rohm. Bent refers to this in making the character Wolf one of Rohm's boyfriends. After this, there was no protection for gay men in Germany, with laws passed that rivaled the restrictions on Jews in their cruel intent to destroy lives.

We do not face anything to rival the destruction of social order and decency created by the Third Reich, but our society has seen an increase in hate crimes. Signs point to an increasing sense of license among those whose hatred would prompt violence against the LGBTQ community, Jews, Moslems, immigrants, and other racially, culturally, or religiously identified groups. Granting leeway to purveyors of hate is a slippery slope; Bent depicts how calamitous that slope can be. It also depicts the immense capacity of the human heart to love, in even the most heartless circumstances.

At the end of Bent, Max finally acknowledges that he has loved, even naming the men he has loved and wails "What's wrong with that?" That the question still needs to be asked makes Bent a work of continued relevance. Its youthful cast and crew did an admirable job of mounting this story, and in their youth, place the question where it is most potent, on the rising generation who will determine the answers.

Bent played August 25, 2017, through August 27, 2017, at Bryant Lake Bowl Cabaret Theater, 810 W. Lake Street, Minneapolis. For information on other upcoming events at call 612-825-8949 or go to bryantlakebowl.com. For information on Geki Arts go to gekiarts.weebly.com.

Written by: Martin Sherman; Director: Thomas Bertron; Costume Design: Talia Wendtland; Sound Designer and Composer: Nathaniel Davis; Hair and Makeup Design: Charlie Schirvar; Fight Choreographer: Chloe Janisch; Stage Managers: Lydia Erickson and Ava Egertson.

Cast: Simone Abraham (Guard/Captain), Mackenzie Diggins (Greta/KAPO), Sage Ftacek (Rudy), Daniel Redfield (Wolf), Adam Rider (Max), Helen Sabrowsky (Guard/Officer), Clay Man Soo (Uncle Freddie), Johnny Stang (Horst).