Review: "Redeemed" Scrutinizes the Space Between the Truth and What We Want It to Be
Redeemed
Written by Chisa Hutchinson
Directed by marcus d. harvey
Presented by Contemporary American Theater Festival at 59E59 Theaters
59 E. 59th St., Manhattan, NYC
September 15-October 5, 2024
Elizabeth Sun and Doug Harris in Redeemed. Photo by Carol Rosegg. |
Despite the play's past-tense title, the redemption in question is far from a fait accompli. Trevor Barlow (Doug Harris) has spent nine years in prison for the spur-of-the-moment, xenophobically motivated murder of literary agent Claire Yiang's (Elizabeth Sun) brother Mark. With his first parole hearing approaching, Trevor has written a letter to Claire that has convinced her to meet with him. During that meeting–on a minimalist set (designed by David M. Barber) with just a hint of a cage in the metal poles that sketch the boundaries of a room–Trevor claims that he is no longer the person whom he once was, that he has unsparingly interrogated the white racial-economic resentment that led to his beating to death a Chinese man who had come to the United States with Claire after their parents were killed during the Tiananmen Square protests.
Doug Harris and Elizabeth Sun in Redeemed. Photo by Carol Rosegg. |
Trevor's attempt to convince Claire that he is a new man who is (literally) haunted by his past actions and that she should help him with a particular request foreground conflicts and disparities linked to race, gender, and, via Claire's brother, sexuality. Trevor in fact raises some of these issues himself, which in turn prompts questions about the appropriation or even weaponization of progressive discourses, including those around trauma and anti-racism. Trevor too is the one who waxes passionately on the importance of truly listening to others/Others, all of which reproduces at a global narrative level in the play a thorny disjunction that is crystallized in something that Trevor has created while imprisoned: What do we do with something potentially positive created by, in this case, a bigoted murderer? Does it matter if he has changed? And what do any of the answers mean for the question of whether prison has "worked" here and by what measure? (What if, for example, he has not "changed" but does something that could be a public good?) A similar but more personal question that emerges from Claire is whether it is worth having a little more of her brother kept alive in the world even if it is in the memory and words of and maybe ghostly connections to his murderer.
Doug Harris and Elizabeth Sun in Redeemed. Photo by Carol Rosegg. |
-John R. Ziegler and Leah Richards
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