Theater critic J. Wynn Rousuck reviews "The Arsonists", now up at Maryland Ensemble Theatre through March 8th.
If you have a fear of fire – as I do – Max Frisch’s play, “The Arsonists,” will make you a little uncomfortable. If you have a fear of complacency in the face of evil – as we all should – “The Arsonists” will make you squirm.
And that’s the point. Frisch, a Swiss playwright, wrote “The Arsonists” in 1953. It’s possible to interpret the play as a response to his country’s neutral stance toward Hitler a decade earlier. Alistair Beaton did a new English translation of Frisch’s German script in 2007. That adaptation is receiving its area premiere at Maryland Ensemble Theatre in Frederick. Director Gerard Stropnicky’s high-spirited production is almost a new adaptation in itself.
Frisch included a Greek-inspired chorus in “The Arsonists” – in this case, a chorus of firefighters. Director Stropnicky expands their role by making them not only a speaking chorus, but a singing and dancing chorus as well.
The play begins with the protagonist, Gottleib Biedermann, entering, about to smoke a cigarette. Then the Chief of the Fire Brigade – played by a jaunty Caitlyn Joy -- pulls out a pitch pipe and leads six fellow firefighters in a finger-snapping, doo-wop rendition of “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes.” When the Chief starts to light Biedermann’s cigarette, the other six aim their fire extinguishers at him.
“Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” is one of more than a half dozen popular songs performed by the chorus -- songs by everyone from Jerome Kern to Bruce Springsteen. This may sound like an escapist approach for a play about serious moral issues, but it’s ideally suited to Frisch’s satire. Biedermann – effectively played by Tad Janes with a nervous, forced joviality -- is living in his own escapist world, denying reality. The town is being decimated by fires, set by arsonists who insinuate themselves into the homes they burn down.
No sooner does Biedermann explain this, than he himself welcomes a stranger into his home. Clay Comer plays this suspicious, threatening stranger with a Mephistopholean glee and appearance – close-shaved head, black beard. Soon he’s living in the attic with a crony -- a waiter played by Tim Seltzer as a man of more refinement, but no less menace.
To Biedermann’s increasing concern, these two are stockpiling barrels of gasoline in the attic. But though he’s worried, Biedermann refuses to recognize danger – even when he can see it and smell it. So what does Biedermann do? Instead of acknowledging what’s going on, instead of calling the firefighters – who keep constant watch from the sidelines, but never put out a single fire – Biedermann invites his unwanted houseguests to dinner. His reasoning? If he befriends his enemies, they can’t possibly hurt him – or so he thinks.
With the exception of a few confusing appearances by the minor character of a philosopher, director Stropnicky’s staging is immensely clever. The production doesn’t just demonstrate the preposterousness of Biedermann’s behavior, it puts the audience in his shoes. Biedermann, by the way, means “Everyman.”
Our form of denial takes the form of enjoyment. Thanks largely to the cheerful singing and dancing chorus, we have a delightful time. We smile and laugh and clap at a story that, even six decades after it was written, remains a chilling parable about the perils of turning a blind eye to societal, environmental or militaristic threats.
There’s an old axiom about not yelling, “Fire!”, in a crowded theater. In “The Arsonists,” playwright Max Frisch is saying you can yell fire all you want, but if no one does anything about it, the theater’s going to burn down anyway. Maryland Ensemble Theatre’s take on this issue is not only inspired, it is – dare I say it – incendiary.
