"After the War' HEDDA GABLER, by Henrik Ibsen, at ACT

"After the War" is Philip Kan Gotanda's new play which was commissioned by ACT and had its World Premiere on March 28 at ACT's Geary Theatre in San Francisco. "War" is supported by a cast of nine, each a standout, a well-delineated character and a major contributor to the story, under ACT Artistic Director Cary Perloff's superb direction. Yet because of this there are some problems in the play's focus and intent. "War" is set in 1948 in Japanese Town (as it was called at the time) in San Francisco's Fillmore District. The backstory concerns a subject that for over 60 years has not gained much attention by the majority of non-Asians and the rest of the world: the forced relocation of Japanese Americans on the West Coast, in 1942 during World War Two, by a Federal mandate enacted by then president Franklin D. Roosevelt. Whole families had been uprooted from their homes and businesses and transported, carrying the allowed one suitcase each, to internment camps in Oregon, Colorado, and Arizona.

Gotanda's play focuses on those who returned to Japanese Town and tried to resume their lives. When the Japanese had left the area, African-Americans, who came to the Bay Area from the South to work in the shipyards, moved in, as well as Jewish and Irish families. "After the War" stars Hiro Kanagawa as Chester Monkawa, who'd managed to re-occupy his home, one of the many four-story Victorians that had made up the residential section bordering the bustling commercial and business district on Fillmore Street. Monkawa has turned his heavily mortaged home into a boarding house in order to make the payments.

Scene designer Donald Eastman constructed on a revolving stage an incredible re-creation not only of the interior of Chester's four-story Victorian but the typical wooden, precariously rickety back stairs leading to the top floor. There's a common front room and dining room, a staircase to the upper floors, a kitchen, an attic room, and back porch. Each area in which scenes take place is gorgeously lit by lighting designers James F. Ingalls's and Nancy Shertler's sensitive, provocative lighting. The only drawback to this towering juggernaut of a set is that it creaks and rumbles distractingly, like an old sailing ship, as it slowly, agonizingly revolves. Each time it moved, I found myself holding my breath until it stopped.

Chet, as he is called, a lapsed jazz musician who in Chicago played trumpet with Lionel Hampton before the war, runs his boarding house with the help of beautiful, dedicated, Lillian Okamura (Sala Iwamatsu), his deceased brother Tad's fiancé, who keeps the books. It is brought out that Tad died a hero in the war. Chet's boarders include core ACT actor Steven Anthony Jones as Earl T. Worthing, an unemployed laborer, laid-off from an Oakland shipyard after the war; Leona Hitchings, Earl's sister-in law (Harriett D. Foy), who cooks and cleans for Earl and takes care of his daughter, Bernice (who never appears). We learn that Earl's wife had left him; Carrie Paff plays blonde, seductive, self-proclaimed "Okie," Mary-Louise Tucker, a dance-hall girl from Chicago. Included in the cast is tall, gangly Benji Tucker (Ted Welch), her mentally challenged brother; delightful Olga Mikhoels (Delia McDougall), a Russian ex-pat, by way of Yokohama, who speaks better Japanese than English, and finally, the unforgettable Mr. Oji (Francis Jue), a bespectacled, beret-wearing, sad-sack, but endearing, not-by-choice bachelor. Despite the many characters inhabiting "War", Gotands has finely drawn each one and each is memorable.

The play is enhanced by a references to the popular culture. people, and places in the Fillmore, and a 1940s' jazz and be-bop score by Anthony Brown, with nostalgic sound bites of Perry Como, Earl's favorite, much to Chet's horror, "I've never known a black man who digs Perry Como!" Act One clips along with humor and sharp repartee among the boarders as they cross paths in the living-room or on the stairs. allowing us to get to know them. The highlight of the first act is the delivery of a genuine table-model Philco television set. With Benji's help, Earl and Chet relay the antenna up the backstairs to install on the roof.

Each character has a secret past, divulged as the play moves forward, which at times borders on soap opera. There is a contest between Chet and Earl as they almost come to blows over who suffers more - - blacks or Japanese. Playwright Gotanda included the plight of the Japanese "no-no boys" as an aspect of Chet's character. "No-no boys" were the Japanese men who'd not signed "yes - yes" on offical documents in the camps, marking their allegiance to and willingness to go to war for the US. Chet, along with other "no-nos", had been sent to the "No-No"detention camp in Tule Lake. He talks about how even now he's reviled by the Japanese who swore loyalty to the US and went to war. Chet vociferously expounds his reasons for his act, and feels guilty for his brother's death.

Mary-Louise and Olga appear more alive and active in the play, whereas Lillian seems to simply sit at the table doing Chet's books, and Leona is in the kitchen, cooking for Earl, though the dialogue between them and their men is funny, saucy, serious, and caring. Cultural differences among them regarding food and custom are treated with light humor. One heart-warming scene occurs when Chet and Lillian decide to have a television party. Olga helps hang decorations. Lillian and Leona prepare their favorite dishes. All the boarders gather in the front room and the set is turned on to the ChesterfieldVariety Show starring Perry Como (The audience sees the back of the set; the actors faces are lit by its glow). Mary Louise, in a red dress, makes a rare appearance (she says she always takes the backstairs so she won't bother anyone coming in late from her dance-hall job). Como sings an upbeat song and everyone dances. Suspicions surface when Chet and Earl dance with Mary-Louise.

A respite from the seemingly endless expostion is Olga's flirtation with Mr. Oji. Both are delightfully playful though Mr. Oji is sheepish and self-deprecating. Soon they discover they like to dance and there is a lively scene of the two of them dancing to a Tommy Dorsey recording. Their budding romance is compromised when her sponser, abusive Mr. Goto (silver-haired, dapper, Sab Shimono) a mortage broker and exploiter of his own people, who is seen leaving Olga's room from time-to-time, finds out about them when he comes to collect the mortgage payment from Chet. Then drastic complications arise between Earl, Chet, and Mary-Louise - - and who knew whom and when and Benji unwittingly reveals Earl's involvement with his sister - - which lends the play an even more soap-operaish bent.

"After the War" is two-and-a-half hours long. Towards the end of Act 2, when tensions escalate and a rifle appears, rather than being climactic, the play at this point seems tiresome. At the end Gotanda solves sticky issues by having the emotionally and psychologically torn characters, not rooted in Japanese Town, simply pack up their cardboard suitcases and leave.
There is a lot to love about Gotanda's play. In fact, he packed so many facets of modern humanity into "War," he has enough material to write more.

Gotanda, at a discussion a couple of weeks before opening night, talked about rewrites and explained that he thought "After the War" had gone through as many as six "finished" drafts. Program notes stated that a few days before and during the preview runs, actors were still getting new lines to memorize. With some editing and focus, Philip Kan Gotanda's "After the War" will rank along with the historically and politically charged plays of Arthur Miller. We are witnessing the career trajectory of a major playwright.

Ibsen's "Hedda Gabler" starring René Augesen, is in its final weekend at ACT's Geary Theatre, ending Sunday March 11, but no mind as another theatre company is sure to mount it soon. It is always interesting to compare productions of classic plays. ACT's "Hedda" is presented with a new translation from the Norwegian by Paul Walsh; it is directed by E. T. White. "Hedda" written in 1890, is probably Ibsen's most performed play besides "A Doll's House," which was presented by ACT four years ago, and again, translated by Walsh, and also starred Ms Augesen as Nora.

Basically, "Hedda Gabler" is about what a woman, livng in the Victorian era, must do in order to climb socially. The character of Hedda can be and has been played many ways. White, it seems, wanted Augesen to play her like Bette Davis's Regina in the 1941 film adaptation of Lillian Hellman's "Little Foxes." Augesens's Hedda is totally ruthless with no redeeming qualities, a shame as it doesn't allow us to sympathize. I've seen the esteemed, venerated, Augusen in many productions over the years in all kinds of roles. It's too bad she's constrained to one note in this one. Hedda and Jorgen Tesman (played by understudy Andrew Hurteau the night I was there), newlyweds, having been on honeymoon for six months, return to their new home, bought and furnished, while they were away, with a huge loan from Jorgen's Aunt Juliane (the versatile Sharon Lockwood), which Jorgen will pay back once he receives his professorship. Jorgen is a researcher and writer, who has yet to be published. Hedda married him based on his pending appointment.

Hedda and Jorgen had barely arrived in their new home when Hedda must deal with Jorgen's aunt whose only desire is to see that her nephew is happy and comfortable. She brings flowers, lots of them, to brighten up the newyweds home. Hedda does things right off to clue us in on what kind of woman she is. She knowingly, it turns out, mistakes Aunt Julie's hat for Berte, the maid's (brilliant, acerbic Barbara Oliver) and mocks it, then paying a bouquet of flowers, lying on the piano, no mind, she slides a case containing her dead father's prize pistols on it, shoving the flowers to the floor (throughout the play, she abuses flowers often). Her next visitor is Mrs. Thea Elvsted, a young widow (well-acted by Finnerty Steeves, with a distinctive Jennifer Jones coloration). Thea has left her older mentor, Ejlert Lovborg, a philosopher whose book had just come out. She had sneaked away from him in the middle of the night. They had been living upcountry where she had sat at his side in abject servitude for years, helping him with his book. Lovborg is about to publish his second. Hedda's treatment of Thea is tantamount to that of the most popular cheerleader's in school to a class chump: teasing, taunting, chiding, and insulting, all while caressing Thea's face and playing with her abundant hair (in fact, they had been classmates in grammar school). Hedda responds to Jorgen as so much dirty laundry to be dumped into a bin and forgotten. He is so besotted he can't see her for what she is. Hedda reacts with revulsion to subtle hints that she could be pregnant.

Enter blustery, paunchy Commissioner Brack (Jack Willis), a sleazy politician with eyes for the ladies, especially Hedda. He says, salaciously, that while Jorgen is busy doing research, he wouldn't mind keeping Hedda company; in fact Jorgen is so clueless, he encourages the idea. Things come to a head when Jorgen is told he is in competition with Lovborg for the professorship. Sure the published, brilliant Lovborg will win, Hedda feels she has lost everything. Her hopes dashed, she complains that no one of any social standing will come visit her. She will be shunned. She swans around moaning about how poor she is. Then, tall, handsome, cerebral Lovborg (Stephen Barker Turner) shows up, new manuscript in hand, looking for Thea, who has gone upstairs to rest. He and Hedda, who had been lovers till she threw him over for more promising game (Jorgen) reminisce about the past. and bemoan the situation they're stuck in now - - he having lost both Hedda and Thea; she, well, everything. Truths are outed. There are hints that Lovborg is an alcoholic. Amidst the sturm and drang (except for head-in-the air Jorgen), Brack announces he's having a party at the club and pressures the men to join him, leaving the women behind. Hedda then displays overt acts of seduction to Thea, once the men are gone, which raises questions. However, during Victorian times, woman often were demonstrative in their affection for one another. Yet Hedda, it is clear, loves no one but herself.

Things come to a roiling end. Is the manuscript lost? Did Lovborg die of self-inflicted gunshot wounds by the very pistol Hedda had given him? But, nevermind. Thea and now Jorgen find they have much work to do together, and hop to it immediately, which leaves Hedda out of the picture entirely. She lets them know how this affects her, allowing her no out but . . . . What an insult to Commissioner Brack!

The set of the Tesman home is gorgeous. Designed by Kent Dorsey, using Victorian furnishings and arches, he also made great use of thin bamboo curtains as both a room divider and scrim, all beautifully coordinated with lighting by Alexander V. Nichols. John Gromada scored the original music and sound. My only complaint was the employment of scaffolding and catwalks behind and above the set through which, on opening curtain, a monstrous glacier gleamed (Ibsen's plays most always feature a glacier). From time to time the characters would appear above the set on the catwalks before their entrances, which I found distracting. All in all, the play moves along and keeps us engaged due to the excellent cast, the script enhanced by Walsh's punched up translation, and White's dynamic direction.