No Manís Land In Brechtís Political Satire, Message Exceeds Its Package by Lisa Troshinsky The political satire "A Manís a Man," penned by Bertolt Brecht and now at Arena Stage, is meant to provoke and entertain audiences in a way that is different from most conventional plays. It could have translated like a haunting fable, with musical accompaniment and stirring symbolism. But to this audience member, it read more like a bad political cartoon or poorly staged off-off-off Broadway show. "Most of Brechtís plays are seldom produced professionally in the U.S.," wrote Arena Stageís dramaturg Michael Kinghorn. "The reputation of the plays themselves as difficult, dogmatic and overburdened by theory may be a factor." Written in an experimental style Brecht dubbed "epic theater"ódescribed by Kinghorn as "that strange combination of stage technology, politically committed content and fragmented play structure"ó"A Manís a Man" has good intentions and a noble message. One is meant to ponder the mutability of personality when three soldiers manipulate an innocent but malleable dock worker into assuming the role of their missing comrade, transforming him effortles sly into a killing machine. For the mere promise of beer, cigars and "the good soldierís life," dockworker Galy Gay abandons his devoted wife, joins the British Army as soldier Jeraiah Jip, and scorns the life of his former identity. Decent premiseóbut do the ends justify the means? Instead of delivering this message with the poignancy of a dark comedy, the script beats you over the head with a leaden-messaged stick and grinds on your nerves like fingers on a chalkboard. Arena Stage Artistic Director Molly Smithís choice to produce the provocative "A Manís a Man" may, however, float with liberal Washington, D.C., audiences for its similarities to todayís environment of war and nationalism. The characters, set in 1925 fictional India, adorn chemical/biological face masks. The barmaid/prostitute, although not in the army, is seen in and out of a military uniform, which conveys the notion that every person during armed conflicts carries with them the essence of war. "Nearly 80 years have passed since this play was first performed, yet it is perfectly attuned to this moment, when we are all unwitting soldiers," Smith said. In other words, a man is a soldier and a soldier is a man, as interchangeable as Galy Gay and soldier Jip. The play begs the question: Has the United States, like the dock worker, naÔvely entered into a world full of dehumanization, violence, hatred and xenophobia, with little meaning? This anti-war notion shines as bright as a light bulb in Act II when the barmaid is asked who the British Army is intending to fight, and she answers, "We havenít announced yet who we are making war on." Yet, this play isnít as affecting as when it first became popular in post-war Germany in the late 1920s. However, for those who enjoy "Brecht-isms"óvaudevillian, exaggerated acting, contrived plot lines, overstated symbolism, and songs and speeches delivered directly to the audienceóthe acting, costumes, lighting and scenery for the most part do the play justice. Tim Artz, as the fearsome Charles Fairchild, and Valerie Leonard, as the seductive barmaid, both command exceptional stage presence, with talented speaking and singing voices. But Zachary Knower, who plays the weak Galy Gay, comes off weak himself. The rest of the castóvarious, sundry soldiers and indigenous folkóare interchangeable, but given the theme of the play, that could be intentional. The military-clad musicians, David Maddox and Dwayne Nitz, are first-rate. But Karl Eigstiís barebones set design could have used some sprucing up. It consisted only of a dirt-covered, moon-like floor with trench holes, a few ropes from which the soldiers swung, some Christmas lights and flags, a makeshift pagoda and a few wood planks. Ilona Somogyiís costumes were not too memorable eitheróstandard military garb for the men, a bustier, garters and hose for the barmaid. But regardless whether this production tickles your fancy or not, Brecht is already one step ahead in covering himself. At the top of the play, the storyteller (who doubles as the barmaid) tells the audience not to worry if we donít understand the story. And at the close of the play, she informs us that "the truth is whatís important, whether this be good or bad theater." "A Manís a Man" runs through March 7 at Arena Stageís Fichandler Stage, 1101 6th St., SW. Tickets are $42 to $60. For more information, please call (202) 488-3300 or visit www.arena-stage.org. Lisa Troshinsky is the theater reviewer for The Washington Diplomat.