Jackson Free Press

In a way, Neil LaBute's "The Mercy Seat" resembles an R. Crumb comic strip. In the 1960s, Robert Crumb appropriated the comic strip, a medium whose "Golden Age" was marked by Superman and other noble superheroes, for his own pornographic and depraved purposes. Although the impulses behind Crumb's counter-culture comics were distasteful to some, they were also undeniably universal and offered more insight into human nature than the calisthenics of spandex-clad, celibate superheroes.

"The Mercy Seat" serves a similar purpose within the context of "post-9/11" cultural production. While much of what we've seen about 9/11 (in TV shows, commercials, news and movies like "World Trade Center") has focused on the "big picture" or "the courage of the American People," LaBute makes 9/11 the setting of a play about selfishness, opportunism and deception. In "The Mercy Seat," the focus is shallow and sharp. Instead of a montage of firefighters or American flags seen through a romantic haze, we see the petty bitterness and sexual nastiness of an illicit romance in unforgiving detail.

The lovers in question are Abby and Ben. Abby is in her 40s, single, affluent and Ben's boss. Ben, in his 30s, has a wife and two daughters, and lives in the suburbs. We witness their struggle in Abby's Manhattan loft, cocooned by the dust of the World Trade Center layered thickly over the windows. It is the day after 9/11. Having cheated death by stopping to tryst with Abby before going to work in the twin towers, Ben's found a way to use the disaster to his benefit. Instead of divorcing his wife, he could just play dead and run away with Abby. He sees 9/11 as his deus ex machina—he can be with Abby while his grieving family takes solace in the misapprehension that he died a hero. One almost hears Ben's secret sigh of relief.

Which brings up the title of the play. In Jewish scripture, the mercy seat covered the central piece of furniture in the holiest part of the temple. In Solomon's temple, it covered the Ark of the Covenant. Once a year, on the day of atonement, the high priest would spill the blood of a sacrificial bull onto the mercy seat, thus washing away the sins of his people and giving them a fresh start for the upcoming year. Christians took the idea of the mercy seat and imbued it with even more significance by interpreting Christ as the sacrifice whose blood would win God's forgiveness. In "The Mercy Seat," LaBute mocks the concept of redemption with Ben's deceitful and opportunistic escape plan. As director Kate Roselle put it: "The play, for me, spoke to humanity in the face of tragedy. What are the gut reactions that we have that we are really afraid to talk about? What are the choices we make when any choice is open to us?"

Other themes, like sexual dominance, proofs of love and personal insecurity, make "The Mercy Seat" a demanding play for the actors and for the audience. (This play is for adults only.) Brian Landis Folkins (playing Ben) gives the performance its emotional weight. His portrayal of Ben as an essentially cowardly, emotionally inscrutable man with an assertive sexuality, explains why Abby is utterly frustrated by him, yet attracted to him. Although Abby's character is more self-possessed than Ben, there are times in the play where she breaks down, times where we feel her loneliness and insecurity. But Lesley Sheblak (playing Abby), although able to be devastatingly cruel and convincingly enraged, never really lets down her guard. Sheblak's Abby is less sympathetic than she could be, and we don't see enough of her sensitivity. However, Sheblak's body language was impeccable, and her incessant pacing around Ben's seated figure made me feel physically anxious on her behalf.

Although the drama between Abby and Ben is utterly engrossing, the play has a larger, unspoken message. Imagine, it whispers, if the selfishness and opportunism exhibited by Abby and Ben in the wake of 9/11 were enacted on a larger scale (say, by government officials) with a larger number of people being hoodwinked (perhaps an entire nation, instead of just one family). Thus, LaBute draws a parallel with the Bush administration's political and military opportunism after 9/11. Then the real ugliness of the play begins to show.

"The Mercy Seat" is part of the "Unframed" series at New Stage Theatre. It plays Dec. 7-9 and 14-16 at 10 p.m. Call 601-948-3533.