Reviewed by: Passion Play James Al-Shamma Passion Play. By Sarah Ruhl. Directed by Mark Wing-Davey. Epic Theatre Ensemble, Irondale Center, Brooklyn, NY. 15 May 2010. Passion Play is, in some sense, a meditation on the nature of theatre across three domains: religion, politics, and metaphysics. Specifically, Sarah Ruhl investigates the potency of the theatrical gesture as metaphor, with theatricality defined as artifice in which, to paraphrase Tony Kushner, it is okay and maybe even beneficial if the wires show. The plot follows amateur companies that mount the Passion in three different contexts: Elizabethan England, Nazi Germany, and the United States from 1969 up till the present. Politics manifest through the inclusion of Queen Elizabeth, Adolf Hitler, and Ronald Reagan as characters; metaphysics through the appearance of fish puppets and models of sailing ships. The depiction of amateurs staging theatre with limited means would seem to suggest that low production values might serve the play best. Indeed, Epic Theatre Ensemble's production fully realized the theatrical potential of the trilogy by limited means; Mark Wing-Davey's staging repeatedly demonstrated the power of theatre on a budget to surprise, move, and delight. Particularly impressive in this regard were his choreography of the fish and ships and his use of a rolling metal staircase for both a royal entrance and a nautical exit. Click for larger view View full resolution T. Ryder Smith as Queen Elizabeth in Passion Play. (Photo: Carol Rosegg.) Click for larger view View full resolution Hale Appleman (Jesus) and ensemble in the US ascension scene in Passion Play. (Photo: Carol Rosegg.) Click for larger view View full resolution Ensemble with fish puppets in Passion Play. (Photo: Carol Rosegg.) Some of the most visually and dramatically arresting moments occurred at the appearance of the fish and ships, both of which were associated with the Pontius figure of parts 1 and 3. In the first part, Pontius is played by a fish-gutter; in the third, by a Vietnam patrol-boat veteran with a troubled conscience. Models of Elizabethan sailing ships, mounted on poles and manipulated by actors and stagehands, sailed across the stage at key moments accompanied by the Queen and at the conclusion escorted the war-damaged veteran into the wind, thereby conferring upon him a degree of absolution. A wind machine, propelled and cranked by actors, accompanied the ships, heightening the theatrical effect. [End Page 262] Click for larger view View full resolution Dominic Fumusa (Pontius) and ensemble with fish puppets in Passion Play. (Photo: Carol Rosegg.) Seven large fish puppets were constructed of sheer fabric stretched across wooden frames and maneuvered, as the ships were, by actors and stagehands. The fish sequences were carefully choreographed as ritualistic moments. They escorted the self-immolated Pontius of the first part from the stage, entering in horizontal formation like a school to the beating of a drum, then simultaneously rotating 90 degrees to the vertical and forming rows to suggest pallbearers or an honor guard around Pontius, who stood among them with arms draped over a wooden staff as if in belated fulfillment of his desire to portray the crucified Jesus. During a hallucinatory battle sequence set in Vietnam, Pontius of the third part lugged a different type of fish puppet onto the stage, one full-bodied and human-sized, which he claimed to have shot. The fish blood spiraled across the stage floor served as a visual reminder of the blood that appeared on the hands of the Pontius of part 1 as he gutted a normal-sized, and apparently real, fish. The red smear left by this theatrical gesture bound together, visually, the guilt of the various Pontiuses—biblical, Elizabethan, and American. Many of the transitions between scenes were ingeniously staged. They often involved the traveling crates that comprised the bulk of the set and were equipped with hidden doors that afforded surprise entrances or could be left open to suggest locations, such as a confessional. One of the most spectacular entrances involved the rolling metal staircase. T. Ryder Smith as Queen Elizabeth began on a high balcony. Her first few steps were taken, in high-heeled boots, down the tops of tall crucifixes stacked...