Theatre in Review: How to Load a Musket (Less Than Rent/59E59)

	Caption: Ryan Spahn, Richard Topol. Photo: Russ Rowland.

"To fire a musket, there are thirteen separate actions that you do first." This is only one of dozens of fascinating factoids to be found in Talene Monahon's documentary investigation of the world of reenactors, who spend their weekends recreating key military battles staged on US soil. But there is more to the playwright's method: Beginning as an amusing celebration of kooky Americana, it morphs into a mordant report on the cultural disconnect that informs our current state of disunion. Presenting largely without editorializing, it may leave you wondering if there really is a way out of the current cultural impasse.

The first half focuses on Revolutionary War reenactors, providing an entertaining roundup of obsessively detailed behavior by participants who don't always grasp how fully their lives have been hijacked by their collective hobby. These are men and women who positively revel in living in the past. "You know, I kind of grew up on the theatre," one says, adding proudly, "I've had that experience, but also as a fifer, I was performing recently in front of, like, eight thousand people." Another notes, "You've seen us, and you didn't even know," pointing out that many of them have appeared as extras in films like Gettysburg, The Patriot, Glory, and Lincoln. ("I think Val Kilmer should play me," one adds.) A third instructs us in battlefield methodology: "Everyone draws lots for where we're going to fall on the field. You draw KIA for 'killed in action' or W for 'wounded.' Or R-for 'runaway.'"

Widespread disdain is reserved for "farbies" (drawn from the expression "far be it from authentic"), a term applied to those who stoop to using such anachronistic materials as polyester and (horrors!) Velcro; equally reviled are the "hardcore," also known as "stitch-Nazis," who are "the people who're gonna eat hardtack in the Civil War." "They starve themselves for, like, three or four days before they go on a reenactment," we are told. "On the field, they only eat rancid bacon and stuff like that." How caught up in replaying history do some of them get? "A few years back," someone says, "one guy actually had a heart attack on the field. And everybody around him just thought it was part of the, uh, part of the reenactment. So, they didn't tend to him. They left him there. They thought he was pretending to be dead -- pretending to be shot. And he, uh, he died."

Most of this is good fun by way of smashing a few stereotypes -- many of the Revolutionary War crowd lean left in their politics -- but things turn unsettling when the focus shifts to reenacting the Civil War, a game in which the stakes are much, much higher. Humor doesn't vanish altogether: A self-described "cross-dresser," who routinely switches between North and South, says, "I've had ancestors who were on both sides. So, you know, I'm shooting myself one side or the other." But a new note of rancor is introduced. As an observer points out, "It's like the reenactors are still fighting the war. For their ancestors. Like, they haven't lost yet." Tone-deaf language abounds: Sandy, a Civil War reenactor of a certain age, says, "Since we're a 501(c)(3) corporation, we can't discriminate against anybody. And we have had, on occasion, blacks that wanted to join. We have no problem with that. Usually, we say, 'Before you do that, just realize that you're standing out like a sore thumb. Why don't you get into a United States Colored Unit?'" He adds, almost wonderingly, "It seems to be really, really hard to get blacks interested in being ex-slaves."

Two performances anchor this discussion. As Jeffrey, a longtime Confederate reenactor, Richard Topol captures the ire of a man hell-bent on asserting that the Civil War was not about slavery but issues of culture and states' rights. Railing, quietly, against the current post-Charlottesville wave of revulsion against all things Confederate, he says, "It's a genocide that's going on against my heritage. Not just my heritage -- American history. Trying to change American history. And I am so tired of being lumped into a category, as being racist, okay?" Jeffrey is not to be dismissed -- he freely owns up to his past racist behavior and he makes several trenchant points about slavery being a system that benefited all parts of the US -- not just the South -- but his inability to see the other side of the argument is stunning. Speaking directly to Monahon at one point, he says, "I want to warn you about something, okay? It's that if you do write a lot of stuff that I said to you the other day, if you put it in your play, uh, you may be called a racist yourself, okay? Just beware." Clearly, the sense of victimization runs deep.

Jeffrey's opposite number is Dread Scott, a performance artist, who stages a reenactment of a slave rebellion in Louisiana. ("I wanna have five hundred black people. Armed with muskets. And machetes. And cane knives. And rocks. And sickles.") He Is often possessed of surprising turns of mind, not least when he asserts that the original Dread Scott decision "is actually the most well-thought out, articulated rationale for white supremacy I've ever read." In a moment of supreme irony, both he and Sandy assert simultaneously that the Civil War should be celebrated: Their reasoning may be similar, but the underlying assumptions couldn't be more different. David J. Cork captures Dread's lucidity, which stands in contradistinction to Jeffrey's simmering anger.

Then again, one of play's best features is its skill at flipping conventional arguments. Lucien, another black reenactor (also played by Cork), says, "I don't believe in destroying statues and all that, only because, if we erase that history, that's not good either. What we can do is take that statue and say, 'Yes, yes, he was a great Confederate general, but he also helped form the Ku Klux Klan.' Talk about that. 'He also was a slave trader.' You got to have both sides of the coin." Something tells me that this argument wouldn't please the Sons of Confederate Veterans.

If, as they say, casting is ninety percent of direction, Jaki Bradley has done fine work in assembling the kind of company that makes theatregoing such a pleasure in New York. In addition to those already mentioned, Adam Chanler-Berat scores in a range of roles, especially as David, who enjoys dressing in revolutionary-era garb full-time. Ryan Spahn is touching as the mild-mannered reenactor Tom, who worries that Dread's slave-rebellion plan will result in "a bunch of blacks coming out of it saying, 'Kill the whiteys!'" Andy Taylor nails Sandy's utter lack of understanding when it comes to racial issues, as well as his bizarre argument that, without the Civil War, Brown vs. the Board of Education might not have happened until 2030. Lucy Taylor provides plenty of deadpan fun as Terry, describing the feeling of "gasm," when the present totally fades away in the heat of a recreated battle. Nicole Villamil offers another side of the story as Javier, a Puerto Rican and founder of the Fixed Regiment of Spanish Louisiana. ("We represent the soldiers from Spain, Cuba, Mexico, Santo Domingo, Puerto Rico, Venezuela, and Haiti -- all who fought in the Revolutionary War.") The production benefits from Lawrence E. Moten III's set, which is decorated with historical artifacts, and Jim Petty's sound design, which includes folk songs like "Goober Peas" and battle effects. Olivia Vaughan Hern's military costumes and Stacey Derosier's lighting get their respective jobs done.

Carolyn Braver appears effectively as Monahon in a not-entirely successful coda, in which the playwright and Dread, on the Q train, wonder what it all means. Monahon -- whose relatives perished in the Armenian genocide - is, quite rightly, bemused by Jeffrey's use of the G word, but, overall, this authorial intrusion feels uncertain, as if the playwright is still casting about for a conclusive finale. Then again, perhaps that's the point: As the script makes clear, Americans wrestle daily with the burden of a history in which idealism and horror are hopelessly intertwined. Learning to accept this wildly mixed heritage is, apparently, much harder than recreating the fury of past warfare. Comparing to wrestling with this country's contradictions, it's a lot more fun to play at killing people. --David Barbour