Commitment to Community

Last month, I attended a press preview of O Jerusalem, A.R. Gurney's new play that puts September 11 in the context of the Arab-Israeli conflict. More recently, the New York Times gave the play a lukewarm review, and a subsequent Times article thought the play was pro-Palestinian. (Perhaps the writer, Clyde Haberman, is not fully acquainted with Times editorials on this conflict.) Well, I thought the acting was terrific, the directing sharp, the dialogue witty and insightful, in large measure, and the minimalist production engaging. O Jerusalem, running until April 19, is at the Flea Theatre on White Street in the Tribeca section of lower Manhattan, within walking distance of Ground Zero.

With Voice editor Gary Pontelandolfo, I attended the Winsted Equinox Festival presentation of Macbeth on Sunday, March 30. This was another engaging, minimalist production, with one difference: the O Jerusalem cast was professional; the Macbeth cast was community. Both occasions, for me, offered commitment and dedication by players and staff, signifying something very special—and, offering a variation on Macbeth, I am not referring to mere "sound and fury."

By the way, there is a line in Macbeth that I would not have recalled today, but for seeing the play in Winsted. It is a line that has, now, sad meaning for the Voice community. In Act I, Scene 7, Macbeth remarks: "If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well it were done quickly." Perhaps, then, it is well that The Voice is to be "done quickly."

A few weeks ago, having been reminded of some World War II movies by aspects of the Iraq War, I sent some doggerel to the Wall Street Journal. A postcard advised me that my interest is appreciated and my submission will not be used. Immediately, I rewrote the doggerel, in part, and sent it by fax to the people's paper, our Voice. The doggerel appears below, in this weekly that truly has given citizens a free press. One of the movies mentioned, 13 Rue Madeleine, I first saw on a Sunday night at Camp Wabigoon, where I spent my youthful summers (Sunday night was our camp movie night, and on Wednesday afternoons we ventured into Winsted to watch movies at The Strand). In 13 Rue Madeleine, James Cagney played the doomed agent, Walter Abel played his boss, and Richard Conte a Nazi agent. Command Decision, based on a play, starred Clark Gable; the overbearing senator was played by Edward Arnold. 12 O'Clock High starred Gregory Peck and Dean Jagger.

And now, having learned that this is to be the last issue of The Voice, I think of another movie, Viva Zapata, starring Marlon Brando and Anthony Quinn. Brando, as the Mexican peasant leader, is killed at movie's end, and one peasant says to another that Zapata is dead. The other peasant, perhaps played by the marvelous Vladimir Sokoloff, corrects him, saying that Zapata was not killed—and adding that he will, some day, return.

When Hollywood Supported and Congress Declared

Once upon a time,

many years ago,

Hollywood was not antiwar,

but was turning out movies pro.

One story, Command Decision,

ostensibly about bombing precision,

Warned of the dangers

of military confusion

When politicians flexed muscles

of mass intrusion.

13 Rue Madeleine,

today perhaps worth a glance

For its tale of our agents

in wartime France,

Concluded with a display

of mandatory violence.

Ending the hero's torture,

bombing him into silence,

Another World War II movie,

12 O'Clock High,

Showed our bombers

climb up to the sky

For raids over Germany

thought needed at the time—

Would they today

be condemned as war crime?

Perhaps we should have a movie

for public attraction

Reminding us the Constitution

bars war by executive action.

Article 1, Section 8

declares with plain precision

The power to go to war

is a congressional command decision.

And that is what happened

in December '41—

Alas, since then, Art. 1 Sec. 8

has been forced on the run.

Yes, the obvious message

of this halting bit of verse:

Before again we go off to war,

let's revive our own Constitution.