“Who chooses to fight and who stays silent?” playwright Erika Sheffer asks in a program note. Not counting potential savior Aleksei Navalny, there have been at least seven headline deaths of those who crusaded against official corruption in the Soviet Union. Execution style murders, a plane crash, a car bomb, poisoning, and denial of medical attention are just some methods used by the Ministry of Internal Affairs in recent years.
Nineteen journalists plus assorted nonpolitical citizens have been convicted of trumped up (no pun intended) charges, from extortion to treason. What makes someone put his/her life on the line in the face of overwhelming corruption and abuse of power is a rhetorical question.
Francesca Faridany (Taya), Norbert Leo Butz (Kostya)
2004. Moscow. President Putin is beginning his second term. Journalist Raya Bobrinskaya (Francesca Faridany) and her dear friend and editor Kostya (Norbert Leo Butz) have so far obstacle-raced their way through party line to truth in print, but things get worse every day. Raya has been illegally reporting from Chechnya. She’s recovering with a bandaged arm and burns. Daughter Galina (Olivia Deren Nikkanen) came home to make sure her mom doesn’t overexert. Each of her dedicated mother’s exits is to her a little death.
Raya is “partly inspired by Anna Politkovskaya, the activist journalist who was poisoned in 2004 and murdered in 2006,” according to playwright Erika Sheffer. As vibrantly played by Francesca Faridany, the character is whip smart and passionate, rising above increasing vulnerability with wrenchingly realistic consequences.
Norbert Leo Butz (Kostya), Erik Jensen (Andrei) and Jonathan Walker
Old school friends meet for drinks. Andrei (Erik Jensen – casually oily), now the head of a government ministry, warns Kostya to fire Raya and toe the line or suffer consequences. (Not, of course, in so many words.) Kostya rails, but knows it’s his turn. “The Kremlin is pleased rival parties have put politics aside…” Andrei parrots in response to Kostya’s questions. “What happens when we pull out?” he goes on, referring to occupied territory, “Do you think they’ll go back to raising chickens?” That dialogue maintains bonhomie is deft.
Raya discovers a twenty million ruble embezzlement engineered by falsely using the name of an American investment executive named Jim (Jonathan Walker). Yevgeny (David Rosenberg), his second in command, informs the boss, but as a Ukrainian is personally fearful of investigating. This character is based on a tax lawyer who ferreted out a two hundred thirty million dollar embezzlement and died in prison 2009.
David Rosenberg (Yevgeny) and Jonathan Walker; Francesca Faridany (Raya) and David Rosenberg
Both actors are terrific. The nuance of David Rosenberg’s buffeted performance is masterful. One empathizes with Yevgeny whose habitually calculating mind and fight-or-flee panic are palpable. The men have a (wonderfully executed) roaring contest. Raya tracks Yevgeny down at a bar and finagles her way into his jittery conscience. He takes her card. It’s a shock to her when Kostya not only doesn’t want to go after the story, but has agreed to leave his paper for to the government television station. “I have a mother here, a sister,” he almost whines. Raya throws him out.
Norbert Leo Butz (Kostya)
Norbert Leo Butz, who’s as fine an actor as he is musical theater performer, offers the multi-layered portrayal of a man who ashamedly crumbles under threat, yet keeps his axis. Transition from cocky privilege to cowed diplomacy is deftly rendered.
Despite, or perhaps because of events, Raya wants to go back to Chechnya. We see her there and then literally haunted by Chovka (Erin Darke), upon whom she chanced. “How many to whom you’ve spoken are still alive,” the young woman provocatively asks on one of her visits. Is the reporter more than useless? Is she responsible?
Francesca Faridany (Raya) and Erin Darke (Chovka)
The State gets to her, of course. Raya survives. When the moment comes to seek available safety or again put herself in line of fire …
Erika Sheffer, whose family emigrated to the U.S. in 1975, was inspired to write this not because of what continues in the Soviet Union, but rather what she observes mirrored in our own country. Think about that.
The eminent Daniel Sullivan offers complete personalities, shifts scenes with fluency, and gives actors space to think, emote, and react. Timing here is particularly laudable. Eruptions arrive in credible scale. Insidious dialogue emerges like a rash.
Mark Wedland’s set is too tech-oriented and complicated for a story in which a television studio appears only in a couple of parentheses. Half the screens and equipment would’ve served. Lucy Mackinnon’s projection design is effective, there’s just too much of it.
Original music (and sound) design by Dan Moses Schreier is especially evocative.
Photos by Jeremy Daniel
Manhattan Theatre Club presents
Vladimir by Erika Sheffer
Directed by Daniel Sullivan
Through November 10, 2024
City Center Stage I
