64. I
FORGIVE YOU, RONALD REAGAN
In
1981, President Ronald Reagan, faced with a nationwide strike by 13,000
federally employed air traffic controllers, warned that if they did not go back
to work, every single one would be fired. Led by their determined union, the
controllers resisted, convinced there was no way that the president would
follow through on his threat. But he did, sending all those highly skilled,
well-paid workers, many of them veterans of Viet Nam, onto the unemployment lines.
A small number, however, both for personal reasons and because they accepted
the argument that it was illegal for federal employees to strike, stayed on the
job. This historical choice is the basis for John S. Anastasi’s sometimes
gripping, but too often clumsy, drama, I FORGIVE YOU, RONALD REAGAN, at the
Beckett Theatre on Theatre Row.
The action is set in the Riverhead,
Long Island, home of Ray (PJ Benjamin) and Jane DeLuso (Patricia Richardson). Craig
Napoliello’s rather substantial set depicts their living room and, a step up at
stage left, kitchen. The shingled roof overhead is seen on a scrim
bordering the top of the set; when required, the scrim becomes a projection
screen for flashback video clips of Reagan and the strikers, for notices of the
current date, and for animated green air traffic control signals; it also becomes
transparent when we see Ray up there in his attic hideaway.
The opening scene is set in August 1981 when Ray and
his best friend and next-door neighbor, Buzz Adams (Robert Emmet Lunney), a
fellow controller whose life Ray saved in Viet Nam, are awaiting news about the
strike. They wear wigs and makeup (both too obvious) to suggest them as men in
their late thirties. The remainder of the play takes place in 2004, when Ray,
now silver-haired, and Buzz, practically bald, are no longer friends because
Buzz crossed the picket lines, causing Ray, who lost his job and career, to thoroughly despise him. Ray ekes
out a living as a general contractor, and Jane, who hoped to retire from
teaching if the strike were successful, is the chief breadwinner, further
curdling Ray’s hatred of Reagan and Buzz. Ray has done well for himself, but
his wife died ten years ago, and he still grieves for her. The still attractive
Jane, who loves her husband but is increasingly fed up with his angry outbursts
and simmering vitriol, finds comfort (but not sex) in Buzz’s friendship, which
only sends the jealous Ray into further paroxysms of rage. Jane and Ray’s 26-year-old
daughter, Tess (Danielle Faitelson), is a feckless would- be actress, coddled
by Ray, who (regardless of Jane’s more realistic attitude) blindly believes she
will one day be a star. But, in the play’s schematically contrived structure,
she falls in love with Buzz’s “Mr. Perfect” son, David, a successful young
union attorney, setting up a situation for emotional fireworks when Ray
discovers the relationship and blaringly insists that Tess break off her
engagement. (ROMEO AND JULIET is invoked in an attempt at comic relief.) Meanwhile,
Ray, more aggressively obstinate and obnoxious than Archie Bunker (Mr. Benjamin
is a dead ringer for Carroll O’Connor), but without his humor, shows signs of
dementia, and is obsessed with sneaking off to his attic where, with a poster
of Reagan on the wall through which an X has been drawn, he uses a Nintendo set
to recreate his long-gone air traffic experiences. The play moves into some
bizarre psychological territory here, especially when Buzz enters the attic
while Ray is in the process of guiding an airliner through a dangerous landing,
and is unable to snap out of his fantasy world.
The play makes an earnest attempt to
confront issues of guilt, parental responsibility, marital friction, delusion, and
friendship as each of the four characters struggles to work out his or her
interpersonal relationships and as Ray and Buzz face off against one another (verbally
and physically) over that crucial moment when each made a different,
life-defining choice. I FORGIVE YOU, RONALD REAGAN’S title is something of a
spoiler, so it shouldn’t be surprising that the conclusion is benign, but the
journey to that point is filled with emotional shrapnel that the characters
must keep dodging to survive.
The audience also must dodge the
play’s melodramatic excesses, its too-obvious expository passages, a final
resolution that lacks credibility, and a leading character in Ray whose unpleasantness
becomes trying. The direction by Charles Abbott has not been able to overcome these deficiencies. Mr. Benjamin’s performance as Ray is uneven; he has some very
strong scenes, and is particularly excellent when doing his air controller scenes,
but he often overacts, tipping the character into stereotype. Ms. Faitelson is
believable as the spoiled daughter, especially when she stands up to her father’s
demands, and Mr. Lunney is also good, although Buzz’s attempts at decency
toward someone who so reviles him strain credulity. Best of the bunch is Ms.
Richardson’s long-suffering Jane; for all the pressures her character must
bear, she remains grounded and real, keeping her seething feelings under wrap
but nevertheless apparent.
I FORGIVE YOU, RONALD REAGAN reminds
us of a moment in recent American history that many of us have nearly
forgotten, but that still rankles in the minds and hearts of those who were most
affected. One of the most disturbing images flashed on the screen is a clip of
New Jersey governor Chris Christie praising Reagan’s decision to follow through
on his warning. Hearing Gov. Christie’s words, delivered with a smiling
smarminess, make it hard to accept the words in this play’s title. I wonder how anyone negatively affected by that strike of over 30 years ago would feel on hearing Christie's comments. Forgiving? I think not.
