Two One-Acts

"Endikin and Reetchie" by Harvey Firari and "Cello Days at Dixon Place" by Michael Weller took an attentive and from a post-nuclear desert hell to the temporary break-up of an idyllic situation in the Village of three young men and the woman they idealistically share The one-act plays, both originals premiering at the Ex, are moderate successes, certainly up to what are now the fairly high standards of the Ex.

Firari, winner in 1960 of the William Morris Scholarship in Playwriting at the Yale School of Drama, has ten plays, most of them produced, to his credit. His present effort, like most plays from the Theatre of the Absurd, is ambitions. "Who is Man?" and "What Is God" are the basic questions considered.

Reetchie, who has led Mr. Endikin through the time of trouble into the green pastures -- to the liturgy runs, is a lonely God with a congregation of one. Jack Salomon is quite effective as the pathetic worshiper. He is expressive and understandable as a man needing a God who ends up killing his own saviour when asked to accept part of the truth his deity has shielded him from.

Nicholas Gray, as Reetchie, has a more difficult role. The pain and anguish of the lonely suffering in the desert come through clearly; the make-up is effective and it is easy to believe that the piece of skin he tears off his arm is real. But it is difficult to see God coming out of the ordeal.

I think the fault lies both with the play and with Gray.

The language of Reetchie's monologues is vivid--"Brains boiling bubbling in a chalky skull"; "while the sun eats away my eyelids." But much of it is the musing of someone who is still in a state of shock. Only the condition, brutally emphasized, comes through. Reetchie does not. Even the name is obscure; only its sound is clear.

Reetchie is a God who only gradually reveals himself. The play is of course loaded with religious references, most of which say little. The seriousness is at times relieved--Reetchie says to Endikin who in a moment of rebellion is standing on him. The stench of your foot is asphyxiating my metaphysics."

But the character is never filled out. One is left at the end with very little more than one started with--a man playing God. Gray added comparatively little to the character. Somehow there is little more than what one would expect; consequently there is little life in the part.

More powerful is Endikin and his readily expressed weakness and strength, submission and rebellion. He can be traced to the world that once was, where he was called sir.

Now he is low with his human need for love and security showing even in his rebellion -- Reetchie to Endikin: "You're always so cranky after your nap." The play does not provide compelling answers to the, fundamental questions, but it is suggestive and absorbing.

"Cello Days at Dixon's Place" the second play of Michael Woller, a recent Brandeis graduate, is an easy play to get into, refreshing after the metaphysics that preceded it. An artist, a mechanic, and their girl are worried about Dixon, their leader, who is hung up over his latest painting, "The Monster". They are easily introduced -- themselves young people, real, who feel truly and do not deceive themselves, essentially moral and trusting enough to expect the same in those around them. These good people are well-acted and convincing; they also come across as very young; something the author did not have in mind. This leads to complications.

Their leader, Dixon, bursts into the room. The dialogue has been likely; Dixon outdoes them. Rousmaniere is excellent, full of invigorating charm. His problem is a crisis of conscience. He has taken on a commercial art job, and worse yet, the money is bad. The group is shaken.

They key question of the play is whether to trust Marcel, the boarder they picked off the street months ago, who suddenly asks for money so that he can recover his cello. He is finally given the money, though Dixon, now cynical, is loath to do it. As the group awaits his return, not knowing whether their trust was justified, the suspense builds.

But here the play loses much of its punch. I, for one, thought these kids might have a lesson in reality coming to them. When Tina, convincingly acted by Susan Schwarz, talks about her three men as aspects of "a single beautiful lover" who share her "without any jealousy" I found it hard to believe. These earnest young people were so good hearted that I began to doubt them.

Otherwise, the play a success Marcel, played quietly but will considerable power by Albert Harris, reveals himself as a true artist. Their trio's faith is justify and Dixon regains "that old feeling--the It's a nice ending and if you want to believe it, you won't have much trouble.

Firari, winner in 1960 of the William Morris Scholarship in Playwriting at the Yale School of Drama, has ten plays, most of them produced, to his credit. His present effort, like most plays from the Theatre of the Absurd, is ambitions. "Who is Man?" and "What Is God" are the basic questions considered.

Reetchie, who has led Mr. Endikin through the time of trouble into the green pastures -- to the liturgy runs, is a lonely God with a congregation of one. Jack Salomon is quite effective as the pathetic worshiper. He is expressive and understandable as a man needing a God who ends up killing his own saviour when asked to accept part of the truth his deity has shielded him from.

Nicholas Gray, as Reetchie, has a more difficult role. The pain and anguish of the lonely suffering in the desert come through clearly; the make-up is effective and it is easy to believe that the piece of skin he tears off his arm is real. But it is difficult to see God coming out of the ordeal.

I think the fault lies both with the play and with Gray.

The language of Reetchie's monologues is vivid--"Brains boiling bubbling in a chalky skull"; "while the sun eats away my eyelids." But much of it is the musing of someone who is still in a state of shock. Only the condition, brutally emphasized, comes through. Reetchie does not. Even the name is obscure; only its sound is clear.

Reetchie is a God who only gradually reveals himself. The play is of course loaded with religious references, most of which say little. The seriousness is at times relieved--Reetchie says to Endikin who in a moment of rebellion is standing on him. The stench of your foot is asphyxiating my metaphysics."

But the character is never filled out. One is left at the end with very little more than one started with--a man playing God. Gray added comparatively little to the character. Somehow there is little more than what one would expect; consequently there is little life in the part.

More powerful is Endikin and his readily expressed weakness and strength, submission and rebellion. He can be traced to the world that once was, where he was called sir.

Now he is low with his human need for love and security showing even in his rebellion -- Reetchie to Endikin: "You're always so cranky after your nap." The play does not provide compelling answers to the, fundamental questions, but it is suggestive and absorbing.

"Cello Days at Dixon's Place" the second play of Michael Woller, a recent Brandeis graduate, is an easy play to get into, refreshing after the metaphysics that preceded it. An artist, a mechanic, and their girl are worried about Dixon, their leader, who is hung up over his latest painting, "The Monster". They are easily introduced -- themselves young people, real, who feel truly and do not deceive themselves, essentially moral and trusting enough to expect the same in those around them. These good people are well-acted and convincing; they also come across as very young; something the author did not have in mind. This leads to complications.

Their leader, Dixon, bursts into the room. The dialogue has been likely; Dixon outdoes them. Rousmaniere is excellent, full of invigorating charm. His problem is a crisis of conscience. He has taken on a commercial art job, and worse yet, the money is bad. The group is shaken.

They key question of the play is whether to trust Marcel, the boarder they picked off the street months ago, who suddenly asks for money so that he can recover his cello. He is finally given the money, though Dixon, now cynical, is loath to do it. As the group awaits his return, not knowing whether their trust was justified, the suspense builds.

But here the play loses much of its punch. I, for one, thought these kids might have a lesson in reality coming to them. When Tina, convincingly acted by Susan Schwarz, talks about her three men as aspects of "a single beautiful lover" who share her "without any jealousy" I found it hard to believe. These earnest young people were so good hearted that I began to doubt them.

Otherwise, the play a success Marcel, played quietly but will considerable power by Albert Harris, reveals himself as a true artist. Their trio's faith is justify and Dixon regains "that old feeling--the It's a nice ending and if you want to believe it, you won't have much trouble.

They key question of the play is whether to trust Marcel, the boarder they picked off the street months ago, who suddenly asks for money so that he can recover his cello. He is finally given the money, though Dixon, now cynical, is loath to do it. As the group awaits his return, not knowing whether their trust was justified, the suspense builds.

But here the play loses much of its punch. I, for one, thought these kids might have a lesson in reality coming to them. When Tina, convincingly acted by Susan Schwarz, talks about her three men as aspects of "a single beautiful lover" who share her "without any jealousy" I found it hard to believe. These earnest young people were so good hearted that I began to doubt them.

Otherwise, the play a success Marcel, played quietly but will considerable power by Albert Harris, reveals himself as a true artist. Their trio's faith is justify and Dixon regains "that old feeling--the It's a nice ending and if you want to believe it, you won't have much trouble.