THEATRE REVIEW:
''BREAKING THE CODE' at the
North Coast Repertory Theatre
AIRDATE:
???
"In the long run," says brilliant
British mathematician Alan Turing, "it's not breaking the code that
matters. It's where you go from
there."
Turing, who cracked the crucial German
Enigma code during World War II, managed to wind up on parole, with his life
and career destroyed because he broke the unwritten social code, openly
admitting his homosexuality at a time and in a country where that was a
criminal offense. We haven't come such
a long way, Baby. Just read the
headlines.
Turing's disturbing story is the theme of
"Breaking The Code," Hugh Whitemore's taut drama, currently running
at North Coast Repertory Theatre. It's
as much a story of a society as of a man.
Most of all, a story of hypocrisy between public and private morality.
Turing's tale didn't end with his media
humiliation and his forced treatment with female hormones. Britain's Official Secrets Act imposed a
30-year embargo on his research. The
world was cut off from his genius, from his seminal work in mathematical logic
-- the basis of modern computers, programming techniques and artificial
intelligence.
Turing was effectively cut off, too. Three years after he naively admitted his
homosexuality -- to a policeman, no less -- he took his own life, at age 42.
Adapted from Andrew Hodges' book,
"Alan Turing: The
Enigma," the play is a series of
flashbacks and fast-forwards, dramatizing Turing's life, his facility with thought,
logic and problem-solving, and his difficulty with personal relations and
social interactions. It's a very
powerful piece.
North Coast Rep gives it a strong
production. All the weight is carried
by the superb performance of Ron Choularton, who is masterful in showing the
keen mind, the intellectual passion, the social ineptitude and uneasiness, and
the uncompromising honesty that was Turing's ultimate downfall. It's a terrific performance.
Robert Larsen provides a very textured,
layered portrayal of Killwyn Knox, head of the Enigma project, a kind of mentor
for Turing who forgets a lot but knows a lot more.
The rest of the supporting cast is
commendable, though Turing's deep, penetrating moments of admission to his
mother (played by Coralie Schatz) and a loving co-worker (played by Lynn
Allison) just fall short of hitting raw nerve.
The women don't quite match Choularton's emotional level or range.
Director Olive Blackistone's staging is a
bit too symmetrical and staccato, which
only underscores the episodic structure of the piece. She builds real intensity and dramatic tension in the first act,
but the pace slips and there's a slight loss of momentum in Act Two.
Ocie Robinson's set is enigmatic. There's a kind of surrealism to his angular,
corrugated steel construction. It
doesn't match the interior locales of any of the scenes, but it smacks of World
War II, and of that huge airplane hangar Turing describes near his house, the
setting for his frightening dream of being trapped inside a mechanical brain.
Marvin Read's sound punctuates the scene
changes with the heavy teletype-tapping of an encoder. There's a minimalist feeling to the
technical backup that doesn't quite match John-Bryan Davis' fine period
costumes or Blackistone's highly representational staging.
There are flaws in the production. But the play packs a wallop, sort of
thwacking you with thoughts of homophobia, government secrecy and control, the
destruction of public figures with their private lives, and the rigidity of
antiquated social codes. Makes for some
pretty provocative after-theater conversation.
I'm Pat Launer, for KPBS radio.
©1991 Patté Productions Inc.