The Chosen

The Chosen People
By: Pat Launer - San Diego Scene

'Chaim Potok's novel, "The Chosen" (1967) is the kind of book, like his later one, "My Name is Asher Lev," that you read and never forget. Scenes stay with you. And words of wisdom inspire you.  

It's a coming-of-age story, and a touching tale of fathers and sons. It's rich with characters and history, set in Willamsburgh, Brooklyn in the 1940s, straddling two crucial events for the Jewish community: the Holocaust and the establishment of the State of Israel. Compressing this sprawling story into a 2-hour play was a mammoth undertaking, but Potok, collaborating with playwright Aaron Posner, accomplished the near-impossible. The piece premiered in 1999, only three years before the author's death. It won, among other accolades, Philadelphia's Barrymore Award as Best New Play. Structured very differently from the linear, chronological novel, the play is a memory piece, featuring a narrator center-stage (always a tricky, often thankless job) recalling a seminal period of his past.  

It all began on the baseball field. Reuven Malter was the pitcher; Danny Saunders was at bat. They stared each other down like demons. They came from opposite sides of the fence, the world -- relatively speaking. It may seem like a narrow distinction; both are Orthodox Jews… but Danny is an ultra-traditional Hasid and Reuven's family is modern and progressive. Their fathers, both Talmudic scholars, are diametrically opposed -- especially on the subject of Israel. But they're also different types -- Reuven's Dad is communicative and encouraging. But Reb Saunders, the spiritual leader of his people, the latest link in a dynasty of Tzadiks (righteous men), is taciturn, silent. The only time he talks to Danny is when they're studying Talmud together, hashing out the fine details of the Jewish laws of living. 

So here are these two young boys, facing off on the diamond, with blood in their eyes. And sure enough, one of them winds up in the hospital. This initiates and forges a lifelong and life-changing friendship. As the boys, both wildly intelligent and inquisitive, mature into adolescence, they deal with alienation and illness, philosophical rants, even the forced discontinuation of their relationship.  

You don't have to be Jewish to love this story. When each of the fathers ultimately embraces his son, there are sniffles all over the North Coast Repertory Theatre. But the play goes beyond just a family saga or a cautionary tale about parental detachment and unrealistic expectations. It's about openness and not pre-judging people. It's about embracing new ideas and making the right choices for your own life -- despite what your parents want. And it's about the defense and danger of religious dogma and rigidity. And pitting the strictures of Law against the suppleness of the human heart.   

This is director David Ellenstein's fifth production of the play. He's obviously steeped in the significance of its messages and its emotional impact. It's a thrill for local audiences to share a piece of his passion. The production he's created here is magnificent, incandescent. And his ensemble is spectacular.  
Ralph Elias plays the older Reuven (and, quite flexibly and comically, a number of other characters) with engaging wit and wisdom. Tom Zohar infuses young Reuven with an endearing geekiness. Amazingly, this is Zohar's professional debut; he's a student at Palomar College, but has only been involved in theater for about a year. He started as a music major and recently composed a musical at school. He has a charming presence (onstage and off); we should be seeing a lot more of him in the months and years to come.  

As his father, the gentle, compassionate David Malter, Craig Huisenga (left) brings a kindhearted humanity that is elevated to fiery enthusiasm when he gets on the subject of Israel (he's vehemently in favor; the Rebbe is equally fervently opposed).  

Reprising their roles as the Saunders père et fils are Christopher M. Williams, who hails from Phoenix, and that multi-talented Angeleno, Robert Grossman (recently so hilarious as the Italian Mafia Don in "Breaking Legs" at North Coast Rep). Williams has a dark, brooding intensity that is perfect for the deep, pained and conflicted Danny. Grossman is a wonder, thoroughly credible as a sage, a great thinker and a mystical, spiritual leader. He is incredibly charismatic; even, at times, other-worldly. It's a glorious, but not showy, performance. This ensemble functions like a family -- bonded and loving, even in the midst of discord and disagreement.  

Marty Burnett has designed a set that's both down-to-earth and ethereal. At opposite sides of the stage are the desks and offices of the two scholars. But between them, there's a misty projection of the Brooklyn Bridge, the primary pathway out of this tight little religious enclave. Steve Shapiro's sound design resonates with just the right mix of noise, music and silence. M. Scott Grabau keeps the lighting dim and delicate. Jeanne Reith, as always, dresses the cast in perfect period costume. 

But the beauty of the play and the production are that this isn't just dusty history or one man's musty memoir. Fundamentalism is more pervasive and powerful than ever, and religious crusades are tearing the world apart. People seem hell-bent on judging others by what, rather than who, they are. And three's little tolerance of differences these days, let alone silence. This play reminds us that we need to stop and listen rather than pontificating. And most of all, communicate. If ever there was a time we needed to hear what this story has to say, this is the time. North Coast Rep is the place. And don't forget to bring your hankie.

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North Coast Rep offers heart-wrenching 'Chosen'
By: PAM KRAGEN - Staff Writer

Chaim Potok's novel "The Chosen" deals with the lives of two Jewish families, one Orthodox, the other Hassidic. It also touches on the Talmud, Judaic traditions, the Holocaust, Zionism and the creation of Israel. And yet despite its Semitic pedigree, "The Chosen" is a timeless and
universal story about fathers and sons, faith and tolerance, and love and letting go, that anyone ---- from any cultural or religious background ---- can relate to.

In its San Diego premiere at North Coast Repertory Theatre, Potok and Aaron Posner's stage adaptation of "The Chosen" succeeds masterfully in moving the soul, thanks in part to David Ellenstein's exquisite direction and a quintet of exceptional performances by its all-male cast.

In their 1999 play adaptation, Potok and Posner pared "The Chosen" down in scope to just four principal characters ---- Brooklyn teenager Reuven Malter and his warm, widowed Zionistic father, David; and Hassidic teen Danny Saunders, and his cold but charismatic father, Reb Saunders, a Hassidic holy man. Narrating the play is the now-middle-aged Reuven.

The memory play device is used to frame the story and to help non-Jewish audience members understand the Hebrew phrases and religious symbolism. It's a dated structure, but thanks to Ralph Elias' graceful and serene performance as the older Reuven, it doesn't impede the story at all. And thanks to Ellenstein's naturalistic direction and straightforward staging, the audience is free to feel a part of this powerful family drama. The story's raw emotional power and the caliber of the acting is so fine that the audience at the performance I attended were repeatedly moved to tears (as was I). Not since its staging of Tom Stoppard's "Arcadia" in 1999 has North Coast Rep so powerfully proven the magic of live theater.

"The Chosen" opens in 1944. The world is at war and a rivalry is being played out on a Williamsburg (Brooklyn) ballfield, where the angry, tightly coiled Danny nearly blinds the easygoing Reuven with a baseball. Despite this bad beginning, Danny and Reuven bond over Reuven's hospital bed and soon become best friends.

Danny is being groomed to take over his father's place as the sixth-generation tzaddic, the holy man of his Hassidic church, but Danny has a severely dysfunctional relationship with his cruel, stand-offish father, and he dreams instead of studying psychology. Reuven is studying to become a professor like his sickly and sweet-natured, but also iron-principled father, who is leading a campaign to create a Jewish state in Palestine.

Much of the play's plot contrasts the warm, supportive relationship between Reuven and his father, and the formal, uncomfortable silence between Danny and his father.

Reb Saunders, we learn, doesn't speak to Danny, except when discussing religious theory, because he believes Danny's feelings of rejection and his personal suffering will build character. So whenever Reb Saunders wants to communicate with Danny, he uses Reuven as a window into Danny's soul. This family drama plays out against the backdrop of World War II, the Holocaust and the fight for an Israeli state, which Hassids vehemently opposed in the 1940s because they believed only the Messiah could create a nation of Israel.

What makes this production work, and it works superbly, is the attention paid to character by Ellenstein and his cast. Robert Grossman gives a heart-wrenching, colorful and rich performance as the Reb Saunders. His cries of pain over the discovery of the Holocaust cuts through to the soul like a splash of acid, and his surprise revelations in the final scenes are overwhelming.

Also remarkable is Christopher M. Williams, who plays Danny Saunders with explosive intensity. His burning eyes, always-clenched fists and almost visible sense of fury simmering under his skin perfectly evoke his character's pain.
Tom Zohar, seen previously in several productions at Palomar College, makes his professional stage debut at North Coast Rep as young Reuven. He's buoyant, open-hearted and likable, but also shows great depth and also a believable bond with his onstage family and friends. Craig Huisenga, who rounds out the cast as Reuven's bookish father, David Malter, has the least-developed character in the script, but he finds range and virtue in the role.

Ellenstein moves the story along briskly, yet finds many moments in the script for silence ----- Reb Saunders' mantra for child-rearing ---- which give the audience a chance to reflect and to share Danny's discomfort.

Mart Burnett designed the simple set of side-by-side studies in the Saunders and Malter homes with a backdrop of the Brooklyn Bridge, Jeanne Reith created the period and religious costumes, M. Scott Grabau created the lighting, and Steve Shapiro designed the sound. The production runs two hours, 15 minutes, with intermission and would be ideal for high school students who want to learn more about history, religion and, most important in these difficult times, tolerance.

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'The Chosen'
by George Weinberg-Harter - Backstage West

Chaim Potok's 1967 novel was filmed in 1981, as well as having had a very short run as an Off-Broadway musical in 1988, before at last in 1999 being adapted into this efficient and satisfying drama by Aaron Posner in collaboration with Potok three years before the novelist's death. Besides telling a touching story of friendship between two young men of antagonistic backgrounds and about the contrasting relationships with their fathers, The Chosen provides dramatic glimpses of Jewish culture, religious politics, and personality that ought to fascinate anyone of any background.

Set in Brooklyn between 1944 and 1948--that is, from the close of the Second World War through the founding of Israel--the play's real action starts with the teenagers' first encounter on a schoolyard baseball diamond, when Orthodox pitcher Rueven Malter (Tom Zohar, brash yet sympathetic) gets beaned by the murderous line drive of Hassidic slugger Danny Saunders (Christopher M. Williams, portraying a proud but troubled soul). Despite their families' contentious positions on Zionism, a growing mutual respect and affection is fostered by the devotion to Talmudic scholarship shared by the boys and their impressive fathers: Reb Saunders, a mesmeric leader of Hassidim (Robert Grossman, a remarkable actor, as a sternly commanding yet disarmingly vulnerable man), and David Malter (Craig Huisenga, warmly wise and frailly determined), a respected academic who becomes a charismatic Zionist organizer. A couple of the play's more exhilarating moments come during exemplary disputations of some points of Judaic law among the characters--intensely passionate disagreements purged of any poison. And, in an excellently modulated and abnegating performance, Ralph Elias plays the unifying omnipresent figure of the future grown-up Rueven, narrating his memories, sometimes hovering like a benign angel or fading into the shadows, providing a proleptic voice of mature advice to his younger self, and even stepping into the shoes of some nonce characters.

David Ellenstein--who has directed this show four times previously, with some of the same players--brings off the production perfectly, with a compact impressionistic setting by Marty Burnett that is dominated by a hazy Brooklyn Bridge, with detailed and defining costumes by Jeanne Reith, with a delightfully precise sound design by Steve Shapiro that emphasizes every baseball plop, and with transformative lighting by M. Scott Grabau that includes a projected Hebrew superscription translated as: "Both these and those are the words of the living God," a formula that serves to ameliorate Talmudic disputes and that demonstrates a tolerant, humane, and liberal impulse that informs Jewish thought and is at the heart of The Chosen.

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