‘A Few Good Men’ Handles Honor, Code, Not Truth

Those looking to this review for comparisons between Tom Cruise’s fast-talking, deal-making Daniel Kaffee and that played by of Eric M. Chesin ’02, or between Jack Nicholson’s delivery of “You can’t handle the truth!!” with that of Emerson College’s Mike Korich, will be sorely disappointed—I have never seen the movie. Seeing the Harvard-Radcliffe Dramatic Club production of Aaron Sorkin’s A Few Good Men was as fresh an experience for me as it was for the audience at the show’s Broadway premiere in 1989 or, for that matter, the movie’s premiere in 1992.

The play is brilliant. Intense in its consequences, moving in its humanity, bold in its controvery, the play never ceases to grip its audience. By skillfully avoiding easy answers to the questions that it raises, the play never disappoints.

A Few Good Men follows the defense of Lance Cpl. Harold W. Dawson (Camilo E. Becdach ’05) and PFC Louden Downey (Zachary A. Corker ’04) by Lt. JG Daniel Kaffee (Eric M. Chesin ’02). The two are charged with the murder of a fellow marine, PFC William T. Santiago (Matthew A. Romero ’02) at the Naval Air Base at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. Santiago’s death is ultimately revealed as part of a cover-up that leads to the heights of the chain of command and forces Kaffee to overcome his fear of the courtroom.

This production, under the direction of Lauren M. Winkler ’01-’02, benefits from a strong set design by Alejandro J. Ros ’02. Breaking the courtroom’s back wall into segments and placing a brick-and-barbed-wire fence behind it, Ros helps the audience find parallelism between the worlds of law and war.

Though the set never changes, effective use of technical elements and scene placement allows the characters to journey from law office to courtroom to the arid air of “Gitmo.” The downside of such a unit set is that in the fast pace of the show, particularly in the first act, one can occasionally become confused about the action’s location.

Another downside is that the actors’ blocking, which is generally effective, feels constricted when confined to one corner of the stage (which happens more often than one would like). Scenes feel static, crowded or both, as in one early scene when the lax Kaffee sits on the edge of a table during a meeting. The choice is appropriate for his character, but it blocks the poor actor behind him from the audience’s view.

Unfortunately, the blocking is not all that is static. The preferred acting style of the cast involves choosing one note in which to plant a character—and never breaking from it. Korich’s note in playing the antagonist is well-chosen—a dark scowl and a booming voice calculated to intimidate all those in his path—but it prevents him from finding the subtleties expressed by his character’s humor. As Lt. Cmdr. JoAnn Galloway, the passionate but inexperienced attorney who assists Kaffee, Marcie Ulin ’02 comes down hard from her first entrance, and she never backs off. The result is that her insecurities appear forced, and her frustration with her faults feels unbelievable and disconnected from her character.

For some portrayals this one-note approach works well, such as Becdach’s Dawson, whose fierce commitment to his “code” stops the show more than once. It is also effective for Lt. Kendrick (Evan A. North ’05), whose pronouncement that Santiago died because “God was watching” is chilling.

Chesin manages to find more interesting levels in his performance. He supplies Kaffee with enough charisma to convey his sardonic humor perfectly, and his relationship with Galloway grows subtlely, yet palpably. Nevertheless, he fails to sufficiently convey his internal battle between security and self-respect far enough, making scenes like his violent interaction with Dawson and even his ultimate victory over Jessep feel less satisfying than they should.

Too many scenes read as flat, and instances of explosion feel forced. Because the proper work of subtle tension-building is not done in the first act, the string of different officers’ testimony in the second act appears more like courtroom formality than courtroom drama.

A Few Good Men is a strong enough play to carry a flawed production. It puts the word “honor” through a powerful exegesis and contains many moments of quiet beauty. It is unfortunate that such moments are lost in a production that fails to unearth the deeper insecurities of its characters. Perhaps the production’s greatest accomplishment is that it has placed the film at the top of my list of movies to rent.

theater

A Few Good Men

Written by Aaron Sorkin

Directed by Lauren M. Winkler ’01-’02

Produced by Liljana Kaci ’03

Loeb Experimental Theater

April 18-21