Beirut, Park Theatre, review

The Handmaid’s Tale meets quarantine horror in Park Theatre’s Beirut: an intense two-hander that feels both outdated and badly produced.

Beirut is an intense one hour about a ‘positive’ named Torch who is visited in the infection quarantine by his girlfriend Blue, a ‘negative’. The play revolves around their debate: Blue wants to stay in Lower East Side New York (now nicknamed Beirut) with Torch, run the risk of catching the unnamed infection and live out the rest of their potentially short lives together. Torch wants Blue to return to the safe zone, even if that’s to a world where all sex is banned and even punishable by death.

The opening scene shows Torch alone on stage and in silence, save the radio, he eats out of tins and watches a search patrol going by. There’s a quiet slowness to this scene, interrupted occasionally by a burst of anxious energy from Torch as someone bangs on his door. These first 5 minutes have great pacing and I’m engaged, excited to learn more about this world and these characters. Everything changes with the entrance of Blue though, where we’re suddenly hit with a borderline hysterical energy from both characters which barely drops throughout the remaining 55 minutes. There’s potentially good actors hiding behind the dodgy American accents and direction that keeps them at a level of intensity that gets boring rather than overwhelming, but we don’t unfortunately don’t get to see either shine. There’s no clear change for either character, and the shouting, then near-copulating, then both, becomes a vicious circle that never seems to break.

It’s not just the production that is lacking. I am always wary when plays need justification for their production. ‘Why Beirut, why today?’ and a full explanatory article fills one of the first pages of the programme, and this doesn’t fill me with a huge amount of confidence. My wariness is not wasted either. Outdated might be too strong a word for Alan Bowne’s play, but it certainly doesn’t feel very current. I can understand how important it would’ve been, premiering in New York at the height of the AIDS crisis (the play’s unnamed disease is clearly meant to be AIDS). But watching it now it doesn’t tell me anything new about love, relationships or indeed the devastating nature of disease. There is regular violence, both physical and sexual, towards Blue. Along with the mentions of women being made to cover up in big bag-like dresses, this does create a very Handmaid’s Tale sense of world where women’s bodies are simultaneously sinful temptation and commodity – but it never goes far enough to make any real point and the violence is just unpleasant rather than stirring. I never really work out what the point is.

Make no mistake, I very much think that AIDS is a pressing and important topic for art and stage but the conversation has changed so much since the original staging of this play. AIDS is a real crisis faced by many people around the globe, but it is those who live in poorer countries with lower health care provisions who are still facing problems of this magnitude and devastation. Two young and attractive people writhing, semi-naked together on stage, feels purposefully pornographic rather than politically pressing. I understand the reasons for reviving this play, but surely there are new voices out there talking about this now, voices who understand the current global AIDS crisis and can help inspire those important conversations we should all be having.