The Idea

When one sees a play as engaging as Edward Caulfield's The Idea, he hesitates before writing a review. To explain what Mr. Caulfield has done and how he has done it, is simple enough; but to explain how he has achieved a balance between a two-hour moral and a well integrated play is indeed a difficult task.

If one is a follower of our liberal tradition he is inclined to believe at the beginning of the play, that Mr. Caulfield appears in the story as Octavia Cooper, a young English girl who speaks the lines of the modern free thinker. She tells us that one must not be dominated by an idea; an idea is not good when it demands rigid compliance on the part of its followers. The liberal may think that this is a forceful statement of his position.

But if one maintains a completely objective viewpoint, he sees that this is not necessarily true; there is another and contradictory theory which stands out in the plot. This, of course, is that the idea is paramount. One must attach himself fully to the idea, sacrificing everything to it so that it may exist and live in the minds of an ever-increasing number of people.

Through his story it appears that Mr. Caulfield has intended to merely set the problem before his audience. Both theories survive in the end, but to this observer at last, it seemed that the importance of the individual was given the greatest emphasis.

The integration of philosophy and play is attempted by setting up one person as the personification of an Idea. Alex Minotis, playing Domingo Alvero, is a South American dictator who exists on the belief that the robust man, the forceful man, can carry out his idea through totalitarian force. There are two other ideas involved in the play: first, that Alvero's is definitely wrong, that progress should be achieved by another process, and secondly, the present American ideal of democracy.

Octavia tells us that wholesale devotion to any of these ideas is wrong, and in the play she attempts to dissuade the human symbols of these ideas from their proposed courses of action. What is wrong, she says, is that each of these ideas is absolute in itself. In order to exist they must do away with one of the others. The person who feels that he must assassinate the dictator is wrong, because he does not realize that an idea which depends on the extermination of another to survive is weak. What Caulfield sets up as the present American tradition fails because it places such a high value on its own ideals that it cannot allow mention of others.

The remarkable thing about the production is that the complicated theme gets across without sacrificing the necessaries of an enjoyable evening at the theatre. There is high comedy, the comedy that comes from irony; and there is drama, drama of individuals taking action to meet the challenges to their beliefs.

The individual portrayals are excellent. Minotis, playing his first role on the American stage, is able to present the dictator in the dual light which adds depth to his character. He is both a detached philosopher and a vital human being. We reject him on one level and accept him on another.

His co-star, Anne Revere, has a simpler role; yet anyone who saw her in Captain Brassbound's Conversion must be amazed at her complete transformation. If her contribution to the Brattle group seemed slight before, it is multiplied many times here.

It remains for four well known members of the local company to hold up the major portion of the play. Jan Farrand, too often the temptress in Brattle works, handles the role of Octavia with a naive idealism which is believable despite its inherent weakness. Cavada Humphrey and Earl Montgomery represent the hypocrisy of our American democracy carefully and accurately, and Michael Wager returns to Cambridge in a difficult role which he carries off with the skill and understanding of a seasoned actor.

We have said that Caulfield's final product is the perfect blend of moral and drama, and director Albert Marre must be credited with an assist. Aside from the opening moments which prepare us for what is to come, there is never a dull scene, never an undefined pause. Characters and speeches are light and dark in complete accord with the dramatic requirements. It is fitting to note in conclusion that Robert O'Hearn's simple set and Francis Sidlauskas' reserved lighting form a neat framework for the play.