Theatre in Review: Deep History (Public Theater/Susan Stein Shiva Theater)Deep History begins as a lecture and threatens to become a nervous breakdown. David Finnigan, a self-described "artist who works with researchers" and "a consultant with the World Bank on climate and disaster risk" is on hand, ostensibly to present a TED-style talk about coping with climate change. "We need to change the way we think about climate," he asserts, noting that human-induced climate change is already here and it's time to start getting creative about it. But as Deep History demonstrates, grappling with this phenomenon can drive one to the brink. The piece's conceit is that it is 2019, and Finnigan is typing notes from his father, a climate scientist in hospital recovering from a spinal infection. The notes form an argument for facing climate change calmly and rationally. One must take the long view, Finnigan suggests; after all, humanity has nearly died out before, for example during the Ice Age. More soberingly, he adds, there will be a cost, using as an illustration how Neanderthals, who once existed side by side with humans, eventually died out. And then, totting up the changes wrought by colonization, which helped to create global markets for commodities like coffee and sugar, he reaches the cold realization that to preserve civilization, it may be necessary to seize power by any means possible. That last point stops Finnigan cold as it directly violates his stated values. Meanwhile, as he works through these ideas, his native Canberra is surrounded by smoke from one of the epic wildfires that have plagued the world in recent years. Things are so bad that even the indoors are pronounced officially hazardous. Finnigan's best friend, Jack, has impulsively taken his family on a holiday that puts them smack dab in harm's way. Jack's texts become increasingly worrisome, especially when he notes, "Honestly, the sense of dread about the next twenty-four hours is beyond anything. This helplessness is why prayer was invented." As Finnigan begins to grapple with the idea that climate change is inextricably linked with capitalism and the subjugation of native peoples -- and, in the last century, the fallout from nuclear explosions, the pervasiveness of plastic in our bodies, and the relentless march of carbon in the atmosphere -- his home and close relationships fall under direct threat. The script edges into thriller territory with reports of Jack driving his family through a charred, dangerous landscape. Yet, despite its grim subject matter, Deep History is anything but depressing. Finnigan is a wry, wiry performer, affable to a fault and possessed with a self-deprecating sense of humor about his tastes in pop music. Even if his father's lecture notes lead him down the wrong path, they are filled with stimulating ideas, pointing to the revolution of consciousness that may be needed. If there's a way out of the mess we're in, he says, it begins with reasserting our humanity and learning to live with each other without exploitation and aggression. Given its lecture format, the production, directed by Annette Mees, couldn't be simpler. Its main features are Hayley Egan's video design, which supplies many images of Finnigan's family and friends, along with historical details and footage of the 2019 Canberra fire. (The most alarming sequence shows a team of firefighters plunging directly into a landscape filled with smoke and ash.) A live camera setup shows grains of sugar falling through a sieve, Finnigan's metaphor for an exploding population and its effect on the environment. Reuben Ingall's underscoring contributes to the overall mood. Deep History is especially recommended for anyone who, paralyzed by the enormity of this issue, has avoided thinking about it. One exits the theatre profoundly concerned for the future but also ready to consider it from fresh points of view. The answers, after all, remain in our hands. As Finnigan's father notes, "We're a teenage species, David. And like a lot of teenagers, our emotional development hasn't caught up with our physical and mental growth. As in: We haven't yet learned to empathize with others, we're still often thoughtlessly cruel. Still bewitched by material technology. Still unconcerned about planning for the future." As I write this, news reports have come in from Hurricane Milton, which dumped six months' worth of rain on Florida in twenty-four hours, with winds powerful enough to rip the roof of Tropicana Stadium in St. Petersburg and spinoff tornadoes spreading destruction far and wide. Deep History offers an inspiring clarion call for us to grow up fast. --David Barbour 
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