Variation on a Theme

THE PSYCHOLOGICAL ramifications of Vietnam are a long way from being exhausted as a mine for literary insight, and a new play at the Next Move shows that the vein is still rich. Medal of Honor Rag provides a personal insight of one man's reaction to his experiences in Vietnam, and through him, reveals the psychological trauma which afflicts many veterans of that war even today.

Tom Cole bases his play on the true story of Dale Jackson, a Black Vietnam veteran and Congressional Medal of Honor winner, who entered an Army hospital suffering from a nervous breakdown. In the play. Jackson (Reggie Montgomery) is confronted by an understanding psychologist (Ralph Pochoda). Their contact peels layers of resistance away from his cool exterior. Montgomery's riveting performance exposes a man consumed by guilt--guilt over bother his unconscionable actions in Vietnam and the fact that be alone of all his soldier friends survived to be actually honored for those deeds.

Peter Thompson's unobtrusive direction of the less than 90-minute piece highlights its main theme--how a man must deal with being singled out for life amidst death, glory amidst gore. Jackson is intelligent and decently raised, his inner conflict, that of a just man in a wretchedly amoral situation, eventually leads him to madness. The irony of President Johnson rewarding gross carnage is compounded by Jackson's fear that to return his medal would make him just another unemployed Black American. For him, the medal of honor, in one sense a key to opportunity, only locks him into a personal hell of self-loathing.

Cole writes with a conviction marred by problems in execution. The script seems dramatically contrived, with the psychologist serving less as a character than as a forced interlocutor. When Jackson refuses to answer a question, his doctor provides facile exposition by reciting information from Jackson's life. Worse, the doctor's prescription--for Jackson to give back the medal so he will recover--makes the insidious implication that the hundreds of veterans who did return their medals did so to assuage psychological problems. Cole seems to ignore the political protest that the action represented. As the doctor, Pochoda brings concern to the role but is undermined by the material he has to work with.

Montogomery, however, fully inhabits the richer characterization of Jackson. His initially laid-back approach and wry humor conceal the psychic turmoil beneath his surface. Against Michael Anania's stark, hospital-green set. Montgomery delivers Jackson's graphic descriptions of horrific war scenes in a voice which goes flat whenever his emotions threaten to take over. His face becomes an artistic canvas, simultaneously evoking the moral desolation of a Hopper cityscape and the pain of a Munch woodcut. His continual taking of breathmints suggests that nothing can serve as a palliative for getting the horrible taste out of his heart and soul.

While Cole may lack insight into the deeper causes and effects of the Vietnam War and its ramifications. Medal of Honor Rag intriguingly explores one aspect of the monster. This endlessly resurfacing theme makes it clear that the beast is still gnawing at America's innards.