Published by the Students of Johns Hopkins since 1896
April 29, 2025
April 29, 2025 | Published by the Students of Johns Hopkins since 1896

Powerful hostage drama plays at Everyman

By David Avruch | November 17, 2005

"Oh," I thought, looking at the roomful of senior citizens, "So this is who goes to the theater on Sunday afternoons." Like myself, they had come to the 1700 block of N. Charles Street to see the Everyman Theatre's production of Someone Who'll Watch Over Me, running through Dec. 18.

A three-man show by Irish playwright Frank McGuinness, Someone Who'll Watch Over Me is the story of an American, an Englishman and an Irishman held hostage in a subterranean Lebanese prison, based on the events of the life of Irish hostage Brian Keenan. It is a story of companionship and survival, and over the course of two acts we watch the men talk, reminisce, hope and mourn.

Left with only a copy of the Bible and the Koran, we also see them pray for a freedom which rests beyond the tether of the chains that binds them -- to the walls and to one another.

Originally appearing in London's West End Hempstead Theatre in 1992 before moving to Broadway, Someone Who'll Watch Over Me won the 1993 Tony Award for Best Play. Starring Jefferson A. Russel, Aubrey Deeker and Richard Pilcher, and directed by Juanita Rockwell, Someone Who'll Watch Over Me is a well-acted and moving exploration of humanity laid bare.

From the first moment, when a trapezoid of light describes a large man huddled against the wall, humming the George and Ira Gershwin song that gives its name to the play, one could sense the boundaries of circumstance begin to blur.

When the full lights came on, two hanging bulbs illuminating the stark, sand-colored room with two bunk beds and two men doing push-ups, my immediate response was, Who are these men and why are they here?

That is, Someone Who'll Watch Over Me doesn't waste any time with scene-setting -- all we get is the trapezoid and the humming -- before it dives into the lives of Adam, the American scientist, and Edward, the Irish photographer, who have spent the last four and two months of their lives, respectively, in this windowless, comfortless cell.

What these men know about their situation is that they are in Beirut being held against their will after having been captured by Arabs. Every other question, like the identity of their captors, how long they'll stay, what their governments are doing, and even whether it is night or day, remains unanswered.

This is a one of the script's strengths: Such concerns, though pressing, are in fact peripheral to the artistic goals of the author. McGuinness wants to know what happens to a man in such a place -- the concept was as topical in the early 90's as it is today -- and, in order to accomplish this, he leaves politics at the door.

Naturally, the characters express anger at the political situation which led them to this place, but specifics are avoided in favor of ideas and themes. What's interesting about this artistic tack is that it's understood that these things they rail against -- inhumanity, coldness, self-subservience -- won't be cured once they are free, and this is what broadens their struggle from the confines of the cell to that of every person trying to do right by themselves. We are none of us free, McGuinness is saying.

Early in Act I, by means of the able acting of Russel (Adam) and Deeker (Edward) and their fluid exchange of dialogue, one is immediately acquainted with the extent of their forced companionship and interdependence.

Whether for their own sanity or for some other undisclosed reason, they have decided that the way to "fight" against their captors is to never weep aloud, to always laugh. As such, the dialogue is never far from comedy, perpetually walking the line between sorrow -- which certainly does erupt -- and inspired hope.

When they are joined by the Englishman Michael (Pilcher), a professor of Old and Middle English literature, the play really gets going: certain themes, such as national vs. human identity, their shared language vs. its dialects, and Irish vs. English vs. American, come to the fore. The antithesis of a cheesy joke that would start, "An Irishman, an Englishman and an American walk into a bar ... ", Someone Who'll Watch Over Me's analysis of nationality is accurate, poignant, and just a little exploitative.

The Englishman, a bit priggish, disdains the wild Irishman's fondness for women and drink, who himself disdains the American's near-blind optimism and compulsion to constantly occupy himself. This tripartite scheme of nationality works to McGuinness' artistic advantage not just because possibilities for ethnic comedy abound.

Rather, to plumb out the "American" response to such a situation in comparison to an "Irish" or "English" one ends up emphasizing what they have in common, not just as English-speakers, but as people.

The fact that the men have no idea whether it is day or night led to interesting directorial choices concerning the lighting. When the power would dip or the lights dim, one always wondered whether their captors -- who could sometimes be heard laughing or talking in rooms above them -- were responsible.

That is, director Rockwell and lighting designer Colin K. Bills used the lighting to keep the actors, and audience, at a certain distance from the characters: the nature of the scenario lends itself to solipsism, since they are stuck and we with them, but the overhead voices and lighting maneuvers remind us at crucial moments that not only are they not alone, but they are being heard. This example of directorial savoir faire is generally representative of Everyman Theatre's skillful production of Someone Who'll Watch Over Me.

At the final curtain, only one character remains in the cell, an ending which, consistent with the body of the play, balances hope and grief with poignancy. Although McGuinness' original detachment from political concerns renders questionable this part of the plot, the author has accomplished something touching and valuable and has demonstrated, by operating within an extremely limited scope, the range of human possibility. Someone Who'll Watch Over Me is a classic of contemporary drama, and Everyman's production is certainly one worth seeing.

Someone Who'll Watch Over Me will be playing at the Everyman Theatre through Dec. 18. The Everyman Theatre is located at 1727 North Charles Street. Tickets are priced at $18-28, with a $1 student discount.You can find more informationat http://www.everymantheatre.org


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