Philoktetes

Philoktetes, the Greek warrior unceremoniously left on a desert island en route to Troy, may be one of the lesser-known figures from the classics, yet his story has fascinated writers from Derek Walcott to Andre Gide to Heiner Müller. Theatre auteur John Jesurun is the latest artist to put a contemporary stamp on this tale with
Philoktetes, an entrancingly satisfying drama now on view at Soho Rep.

According to legend, midway through the Trojan War, Odysseus and Neoptolemus returned for their old comrade Philoktetes, whom they left behind because of a festering, foul-smelling snakebite. They need the weapon he carries, a bow once belonging to Hercules, in order to win the war, according to the prophecy of an oracle. However, after years of solitude — in which his resentments and anger have grown — Philoktetes is not necessarily receptive to Odysseus and Neoptolemus’ request.

Jesurun’s lyrical and pointedly political modern-dress play uses the central conflict between Philoktetes (Louis Cancelmi), Odysseus (Will Badgett), and Neoptolemus (Jason Lew) to investigate a wide variety of themes. Most interestingly, the question of true masculinity arises again and again as the haughty Odysseus and naïve Neoptolemus badger Philoktetes, who alternates between haughty arrogance and taciturn petulance. At times, the two soldiers imply that Philoktetes’ wound somehow makes him less of a man, and that perhaps if he had been able to endure the pain more stoically, the three might not find themselves at this difficult juncture.

Equally intriguing — and this is where Jesurun’s script invokes variations on the myth — are Odysseus and Neoptolemus’ implications about Philoktetes’ morality, implying that a deviation from the societal norm might have had something to do not only with the reason for Philoktetes’ wound but also the Greeks’ subsequent actions. Without ever using the words “Don’t ask, don’t tell,” Philoktetes manages to indict the way in which the U.S. military treats its gay and lesbian soldiers.

The production also causes theatergoers to contemplate the current war in Iraq. At one point, Neoptolemus moves upstage and stares into an unseen video camera, which projects his image surrounded by what look like twinkling stars onto the screen that backs the stage. When Neoptolemus moves away from the camera as Odysseus and Philoktetes verbally spar, theatergoers come to realize that the “stars” in actuality are bombs bursting in mid-air — nighttime video footage of a modern-day war that bring to mind the first attacks on Baghdad.

Later in the play, when Odysseus most aggressively confronts Philoktetes about his wound and unwillingness to support the Greeks’ continued campaign against Troy, it’s difficult to not think of reports of contemporary interrogations and anticipate torture (which never comes) as Odysseus carefully and purposefully removes his dark suit coat and rolls up his shirt sleeves.

Jesurun’s ability to shift audiences’ minds from the specifics of the tale to the world in which we live lies in the complexly layered nearly stream-of-conscious language used throughout the play. A phrase like “Yankee pot roast” may jar initially, but it also has an incredible resonance that somehow makes these characters seem familiar. As Philoktetes damns the Greeks’ campaign against the war which is killing scores of “beautiful boys” who come home in body bags, thoughts instantly turn toward the most recent reports of casualties in the Middle East.

Similarly, Jesurun’s script sends chills down the spine as Philoktetes and Odysseus heatedly debate while sipping scotch, seemingly at the posh hotel’s pool (indicated by swirling water in Jesurun’s ever-shifting video landscape for the piece).

Jesurun elicits a wonderfully subtle performance from Cancelmi, who mesmerizes throughout as a soft-spoken but assured Philoktetes. Badgett gives a performance of equal assurance as the uncompromising Greek general Odysseus. Lew gracefully traverses what is perhaps the trickiest arc in the play, transforming from soft young man to hardened soldier with graceful and convincing ease; its quite disconcerting and distressing to watch as the handsome young man dons a dark suit and tie similar to Odysseus’ outfit.

As the piece ends, theatergoers may feel slight shudders in their spines. These tremors will pass, but the imagery and ideas of Philoktetes remain well after the performance has ended.