Edgardo Mine (review)

Alfred Uhry's Edgardo Mine is an impassioned plea for historical memory and a corrective against revisionism. The play dramatizes an actual event that occurred in 1858 when civil authorities in Bologna, Italy, removed a Jewish child from his parents' home ostensibly for his own safekeeping. The young boy, Edgardo Mortara, was taken away after being secretly baptized by a fourteen year-old domestic. According to Canon Law, a baptized child must be removed from the influences of non-believers in order to ensure proper upbringing and education. Within the space of two years, this action inaugurated an international controversy that challenged the spiritual and temporal powers of the papacy, contributed to the unification of Italy, and laid the groundwork for the later emergence of the Zionist movement. This extraordinary story was, however, relegated to the annals of nineteenth-century Jewish history. Alfred Uhry's play, based on the recent historical research of David Kertzer, sheds light on this almost forgotten, but significant, episode.

Edgardo Mine examines conflicting narratives of that historical event by posing the question: whose tale will be told and whose story will shape the collective memory of the audience? The two main characters—Pius IX and Marianna Mortara (the mother of the kidnapped boy)—present contrasting views of events as they seek to convince themselves, each other, and the audience about the authenticity of a given theatrical moment. Using a series of Brechtian devices, the Hartford Stage production presents a critical investigation that forces the audience to adjudicate the relative veracity of the contrasting versions.

The audience's reception of the play is framed by the knowledge that the Catholic Church has recently beatified Pius IX and that he is well on his way to sainthood. This idealized, sanitized portrait of the Pope stands in stark contrast to the character enacted on stage. The drama implicitly asks a contemporary audience whether Jews and Catholics can ever reconcile when the two groups have such different narratives of a shared history. Edgardo Mine resonates as a contemporary parable about post-September 11 America—a warning about the dangers of fanaticism and fundamentalism. The play also functions as effective social commentary: the obvious similarities between the Elian Gonzales case and the Mortara affair invite correspondence and parallels. This, in turn, suggests that Uhrey's play functions as a commentary on contemporary America and its mass media.

The Hartford Stage production strives to capture the regal, tasteful but also cold and sterile atmosphere of the Vatican. Neil Patel's set creates a sense of muted grandeur. The spectators enter walking on a floor painted as a Renaissance mural. An imposing edifice consisting of a series of bleachers with three entrance ramps stands in front of the audience. The structure suggests palatial splendor but in a clean, classic style. A central door flanked by entrances on either side form the downstage facing of the bleachers. Two aisles from the audience also serve as entrances and exits. The lowering of objects such as a large crucifix or a portrait of the Virgin Mary signifies scene changes. Robert Wierzel's lighting provides harsh, diagonal shafts of illumination that frame areas within the space. This configuration allows the director Doug Hughes to crisply move the action forward in a relatively bare space.

Brian Murray delivers a compelling performance as Pius IX, portrayed as a charming and enchanting raconteur who sweeps the audience along in his wake. The production imagines Pius IX as a tragic figure. Trapped by theology, constrained by his stubbornness, and impotent against the forces that converge upon him, Murray's Pius refuses to compromise and seals his own fate. Murray conveys the suffering of the Pope in a dignified and moving manner that never becomes mawkish.

Randy Graff's portrayal of Marianna Mortara is poignant but not sentimental. Graff becomes defiant when urging the audience to accept her version of the story and uses charm, intelligence, and wit in her futile struggle with Pius IX...