Theatre in Review: 1001 (Page 73 Productions)

	Photo by Evan Sung

The title of Jason Grote's new play refers to the stories allegedly told by Scheherazade; Grote, however, is something of a Scheherazade himself, spinning an intricate web of tales that reaches from medieval Persia to New York on the day before yesterday. This is a kind of theatrical page-turner, and I defy you not to get caught up it.

We begin with a man lying on a hospital gurney, an unsettling image that will not be explained until the play's final moments. Then the action rewinds to antiquity, to the tale of a king who, stung by his wife's adultery, vows to wed a new virgin every day, and have her killed after the wedding night. It's not long before the female population is depleted and Scheherazade, the vizier's daughter, proposes marriage to the king, to the horror of her loved ones.

But Scheherazade has a plan; on her wedding night, she begins the tale of Yahya, who loves his sister carnally and is roundly punished for it; years later, reduced to life as a mad street beggar, he encounters a servant girl who is her double; instantly brought back to life, he begins making her over in his sister's image, a decision that only leads to more trouble. This story is amusingly reframed as kind of a Middle Eastern take on Vertigo, complete with Bernard Herrmans luscious underscoring, setting the tone for Grote's then-and-now narrative method.

But, before the story can be completed, Scheherzade informs her bridegroom that, to understand the ending, he needs to hear another story. And we're off, as she keeps her husband on the string with an elegantly conceived version of narratus interruptus. One story spills into another, each making use of the same set of plot elements - a bolt of blue cloth, a one-eyed man, a pair of sisters -- to very different effects.

At the opposite end of the narrative spectrum is the story of Dahna and Alan Dershowitz. She's a Kuwaiti who has lived in the U.S. since childhood; he's a sweet-natured Jewish kid from Jersey. They meet at a political event at Columbia and travel to Gaza, at his insistence, where he is nearly killed trying to understand the political crisis there. They move in together, but she feels the siren call of tradition and soon finds herself IM-ing with a young Kuwaiti stockbroker in London, a family friend introduced by Dahna's sister. The Dahna-Alan relationship quickly frays, but her final decision is rewritten by unimaginable historical events -- and the intervention of a genie, who brings the action to a teasingly ambiguous close.

At first, the constant hopscotching around the centuries is a little bit irritating, as are some of the goofier attempts at humor. (One notably silly interlude is Monster Chiller Horror Theatre, starring Osama Bin Laden; do you really need more examples?) But Grote has his reasons - including the way he scrambles the time frame of the Dahna-Alan story. What's particularly intriguing is how each story involves shifting power arrangements-between men and women, masters and servants, Israelis and Arabs, East and West. (Among the items in his cultural closet are excerpts from Michael Jackson's "Thriller," and cameo appearances by Gustave Flaubert and Jose Luis Borges.). Each story has a way of overturning your perceptions and bringing you back to square one; the achievement is, the longer it all goes on, the more seduced you become. The highest tribute I can pay is that Grote even works the events of 9/11 into the framewor, without seeming exploitative.

Part of this success is surely due to Ethan McSweeney's extremely capable direction. I don't think I've ever seem him tackle such fantastical material as this -- his last project was 100 Saints You Should Know, at Playwrights Horizons -- but he's right at home here. (Among my favorite touches: a pair of young people dance in a Brooklyn club; the actors throw a blue cloth over their heads; a light cue redirects your attention, and by the time the cloth lands on the ground; we see two different characters sleeping under it.) The story is dominated by Roxana Hope, as Scheherazade and Dahna -- she makes each of them into a commanding, complex, yet appealing character - and Matthew Rauch, as the king and Alan, both of them share a certain credulity, although one is barbarian and the other wouldn't hurt a fly. There's also strong work from Mia Barron, as Dahna's cynical sister; Drew Cortese, as the obsessed Yahya; and John Livingstone Rolle, as an urbane, word-gripped Borges. (The latter three take on many roles; at the curtain call, it's a shock to realize how many parts have been played by only six actors.)

Rachel Hauck's set design puts the audience on four sides, with a shiny black deck in the middle, framed by graffiti; it's a solution that keeps the action moving at top speed. (There's also a horizontal video screen above the stage, most used for titles and the odd video clip.) It helps that Tyler Micoleau's thoughtful lighting design remakes the space with different colors and angles for each new story. Murell Horton's costumes include some sumptuous Arabian Nights garb -- one bride is clad in a luscious blue satin gown covered with glitter-filled lace -- and she also does well by the modern clothes. Lindsay Jones' sound design includes myriad of effects, including one of the most upsetting explosions I've ever heard in the theatre. (Micoleau's lighting helps out here, as well.)

And the point of it all? Well, if there is one, it is, I think, the sheer power of storytelling, and how it makes us cling to life. Somehow, the author says, the basic elements of our existence are constantly reshuffled in new and more intriguing ways -- and somehow, we always want to know more. In any case, 1001, is a debut to take note of. I sincerely hope that Jason Grote has more stories to tell; he'll find in me one very willing audient.--David Barbour