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Theatre-Intime's 'J.B.' is not just sandals and sackcloth

Going into Theatre-Intime's production of Archibald MacLeish's "J.B." — a "modernized retelling of the Book of Job" directed by Kate Callahan '01 — I was afraid that it would be the same old Biblical story, only the characters would wear jeans and sneakers instead of sandals and sackcloth. And after REL 214 and HUM 207 and a particularly rough week, I wasn't in the mood for a simple reiteration of the Old Testament's explanation of the ways of God to man: "Shut up." (Job 40:2)

Walking into the theater, however, I knew this was something different. Theatre-Intime has been fully converted into the interior of a circus tent. Blue and grey striped fabric covers the walls and acts as a curtain over the stage. Intime's proscenium stage is gone, replaced with a raked red platform and a huge blue box covered with big white stars. As the play begins, two vendors enter from the rear of the theater with popcorn and balloons and identify themselves as God and Satan (Satan sells the popcorn).

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Actually, the two vendors, Nickles and Mr. Zuss (Todd Barry '00 and Ben Waterhouse '00), are just playing the roles of the divine duo in their own production of the story of Job. Waxing poetic — the play is a modern verse drama — about the pros and cons of the original story, the two come to a conclusion: "It's ridiculous, all of it." Even so, they don large masks to assume their godly identities and begin their lines, interrupted intermittently by a mysterious voice that speaks their lines for them. Mr. Zuss as God makes His infamous wager with Satan: Job will never curse God, no matter what tragedies befall him.

The curtain opens on a last supper-styled table, at which Job (nicknamed J.B., hence the show's title) and his family appear. Job (Wilson Sumner '01) is a successful banker whose wife, Sarah (Sasha Kopf '02), and family think themselves to be in God's good graces as they eat their Thanksgiving feast. In the next scene, however, Job and Sarah learn from messengers (Dave Popoli '02 and Mike Boyle '02), who are linguistically caught between modern and Biblical speech, that their oldest son has been killed in World War II.

Before long, J.B. and Sarah have lost their home and all of their children to various tragic circumstances, though instead of desert whirlwinds and Chaldeans, the disasters are explosions and drunk driving accidents. The suffering couple struggle to reconcile their fate with a benevolent God as they tumble deeper into poverty and sickness.

All the while, the two circus vendors oversee the action, each cheering on his own side of the bet. As yet another tragedy upsets Job's life, and even his wife is crying to him to curse God, Nickles goads him on: "Now's the time to say it, mister." Barry and Waterhouse carry off these omnipresent roles with honesty, sympathy and a strange amount of seriousness that is surprisingly appropriate to the two circus workers. They do not let their roles become too comedic, remaining instead the serious commentators on Job's tragic tale.

Sumner and Kopf are convincingly grave as the ill-fated couple, delivering such ringers as "Blow on the coal of the heart" with utmost sincerity and dramatic poise.

Callahan, a veteran campus actress, makes her directorial debut with J.B. I'm a sucker for meta-theater, and her central notion of emphasizing the theatricality of the play is well-conceived. In addition to the effect of the all-encompassing circus tent set by Jason Pearson GS, Callahan does not let her actors shy away from the poetic nature of the play. This allows modern American poet MacLeish's verse to be heard and appreciated as poetry within a drama.

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Thus, we inevitably see Job and his family as characters in a theatrical production, which in turn, shows us their universality. However, especially in contrast with the mostly vernacular vendors — who do have their share of noticeable verse — the slow poetic delivery of the play-within-a-play often seems to drag.

Apart from the circus tent, the vernacular deities, and the few modern adjustments, MacLeish's retelling holds quite true to the Biblical story, which, for much of the play, left me wanting something a bit more clever. That is, until the very end.

This is a story that most people have heard before, but I'm not going to spoil the ending for you — just remember, it is in the final few minutes of the play that we understand MacLeish's impetus for giving this particular story a rewrite. Playing on new themes of the theatricality of existence, the reversal of divine and human roles and the undying persistence of the human spirit, MacLeish gives us new faith and spirit to proceed with the human struggle, with or without the help of the traditional, rational conception of God.

Ultimately, although director and author realize the potential of the dramatic form, as MacLeish writes in his essay "Heaven and Earth and the Cage of Form," "It is not in the world of ideas that life is lived. Life is lived for better or worse in life."

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Theatre-Intime presents "J.B." Thurs., March 30 - Sat., April 1 at 8 p.m. and Sat., April 1 at 2 p.m. Call (609) 258-4950 for reservations.