Theatre in Review: Dakar 2000 (Manhattan Theatre Club/City Center Stage I)Dakar 2000 is populated by two of the nicest, most likable people you wouldn't trust with a paper clip, let alone your life, and the considerable fun of Rajiv Joseph's new thriller involves trying to figure out what, if anything, they say is true. This, paired with an unnerving sense of the US Government's willingness to use its citizens while ostensibly safeguarding them, makes a ripping entertainment for these cynical times. If you attend, pack a healthy dose of skepticism. First up is Babucar, aka Boubs, a young Peace Corps worker in Senegal, who, driving, back to the village where he works, flips his truck, barely escaping serious injury. Boubs sterilizes his wounds with the bottle of Pastis he is carrying, a solution that impresses Dina, the older, strikingly attractive, State Department representative processing his case. It should be a routine matter except for nagging details that keep leaking out. For example, the part about Boubs swerving his vehicle to avoid a cat? A white lie. The assertion that he wasn't drinking? An exaggeration. And then there's the matter of his cargo, bags of cement plus some fencing that he misappropriated to build a garden for the women of his village. At a time of high suspicion following the bombings of two US embassies in East Africa by Al Qaeda terrorists, Boubs insists that his community is largely Christian; well, that's almost true, sort of. "You're a good liar," Dina says, admiringly. So taken is Dina with these seemingly innocent prevarications that she helps him escape possible criminal prosecution through some sleight of hand with official paperwork, aided by a little forgery on Boubs' part. Things get cozy when she makes a follow-up visit to his village and they share intimacies, spiked on Dina's part by one or two whoppers designed to test Boubs' credulity. She also admits to being a spy and confesses the guilt she feels having survived the Tanzania bombings, which killed several friends, including her married lover. After several beers, they make a date for a romantic assignation in Dakar on New Year's Eve. But when Boubs arrives, overprepared for the evening --"I brought condoms," he says. "I have, like, thirty of them" -- a frantic Dina informs him that the Tanzania killer is staying in their hotel, and she needs Boubs to do one little thing... Suddenly, a story told by the middle-aged Boubs in the play's prologue, about a sneak attempt at fingerprinting a corpse, is seen in an entirely different light; it will be subject to further revision when Boubs finds out what Dina is really up to. It's worth mentioning that the following scene features the first jump-out-of-your-seat shock to come our way in a long time. Joseph's tautly constructed script turns us into spymasters, weighing each line for accuracy and considering whether the latest twist is a bombshell or a dud designer to divert our attention. Mia Barron's Dina is especially deft at spinning new scenarios, preying on Boubs' sympathies and broken heart -- he has recently been dumped -- to get her way. ("You can't like someone and manipulate them!" Boubs insists. "Yes, you can," she replies, emphatically.) Barron, one of New York's reliably great performers, makes Dina, sleek, perfectly put together, a take-charge type who is never more alarming than when seemingly confessing her inner feelings. She has a fine partner in crime with boyish, mop-haired Abubakr Ali, whose Boubs is an impulsive, immature idealist prone to emotional outbursts. He is also a master of the slow-drip confession and don't think he is beyond practicing a little blackmail when the opportunity arises. It's no wonder his favorite song is "Karma Chameleon." Director May Adrales adroitly sends these two friends/lovers/antagonists (pick one) running around Tim Mackabee's elegant set, which uses a turntable to deliver several locations, including the roof of Boubs' house. Projection designer Shawn Duan provides important location and time information in addition to images that include starry skies and evocative shots of Senegal beaches and villages. Lighting designer Alan C. Edwards paces the scenic transitions, giving everything a suitably noirish look. Emily Rebholz's costumes stress the gap between Boubs' ratty T-shirts and flip-flops and Dina's flattering, wrinkle-free ensembles. (One question: Wouldn't the attempt to disguise Boubs as a bellboy include a pair of pants as well as a coat?) Bray Poor's sound design ranges from local music to fireworks. The thoroughly gripping Dakar 2000 calls to mind some of Graham Greene's self-described "entertainments," featuring shadowy characters and atmospheres both romantic and squalid, or the novels of Ross Thomas, populated by a motley crew of professional spies and thrill-seeking freelancers looking for the next trouble spot. The play is a kind of sentimental education in reverse: Whatever happens between Dina and Boubs -- and you're likely to leave the theatre wondering what really went down in that hotel room -- you can be sure that he has been seduced -- and thoroughly corrupted. --David Barbour 
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