By Donald H. Harrison
SAN DIEGO—Nancy and I commemorated Yom HaShoah in unorthodox fashion. We went with our cousins Bruce and Pat Feldman to see Cygnet Theatre’s production of Cabaret at the Old Town Theatre.
No, I didn’t like the musical drama; I hated it, as I knew I would—even though the cast did a fine job and the production was innovative. The story depicts life in Berlin at the end of the Weimar Republic, as Hitler and his Nazi party were rising to power. The action occurs at the Kit Kat Club, where the owners believe in catering to the tastes of their audiences, whatever those may be, and at a boarding house where singer Sally Bowles (Joy Yandell) takes up residence and possible parenthood with naïve, sexually-confused, and idealistic American novelist Clifford Bradshaw (Charlie Reuter).
I personally was more involved in the side-plot dealing with the relationship between the rooming house’s Christian landlady, Fraulein Schneider (Linda Libby) and the Jewish owner of a nearby fruit store, Herr Schultz (Jim Chovick), two lonely senior citizens looking to complete their lives with companionship and affection. Their discreet, polite, Old-World romance contrasted with the turbulent, anything-goes ambiance of the Kit Kat Club, where, with the encouragement of the chameleon-like Emcee (Karson St. John), club patrons, for “money, money, money” could make their worlds go around with drugs, alcohol, and sexual partners of any description.
In one scene, Fraulein Schneider and Herr Schultz are celebrating their engagement when Ernst Ludwig (Jason Heil) takes off his overcoat and we see the Nazi armband on his jacket. It was as if the air went out of the theatre. Ernst tells Mrs. Schneider that it would be very bad for her to marry a Jew. She subsequently breaks off the engagement, waving aside Schultz’s protestations that he will protect her and that the Nazis are just a passing phenomenon.
A later scene has the emcee in a Charlie Chaplin-like mustache — or is Adolf Hitler’s?— in a duet with a dancing pig, suggesting that if others could see the pig as the Emcee did, they wouldn’t object to the romance. Then, in case anyone missed the point of the Nazi-style sarcasm, a Magen-David-covered sack is pulled over the pig’s face.
Schultz’s denial of the reality around him and his belief that everything would turn out better in the end, made me cringe. If only he and other European Jews hadn’t deluded themselves; if only they had been able to reach non-European destinations, if only, if only…
The Nazis ended the romance between Schneider and Schultz; whereas Sally Bowles’ internal demons destroyed the possible future she might have had with Clifford Bradshaw.
After the play, cousin Pat told me that she had immersed herself in previous reviews of Cabaret, particularly in the discussions of how Sean Murray, the artistic director and co-founder of the Cygnet Theatre, had introduced some gender-bending innovations in this production. The Emcee was a part made famous on Broadway and in the movie Cabaret by Joel Grey; yet, in the Cygnet Theatre the very female Karson St. John played the Emcee. Our own theatre critic Carol Davis commented in her review on this aspect of the play.
Pat said that she concentrated on this aspect of the play, not only because it was a novelty, but also because it diverted her from once again thinking about the Holocaust. There are many Jews who avoid attending movies or plays depicting the Holocaust, or even official commemorations such as that held on Sunday at the Lawrence Family Jewish Community Center at the same time we were at the theatre at Old Town. As they express it, the memories and emotions evoked at such commemorations are like tearing the scabs off a wound. “We Jews know all too well what happened,” says Nancy. “Let the others learn.”
Although Cabaret was painful, it only hints of what is to come. Yes, we see the bewildered Schultz at the end of the play wearing the yellow Jewish star on his coat, but things haven’t gotten to the point yet where he and other Jews are being herded onto the trains bound for concentration camps and crematoria.
We watched the play on Sunday, May 1, 2011, a day of dramatic juxtapositions. Wanting something happy to think about after being depressed, we wandered into Old Town San Diego State Historic Park, where celebrations in progress anticipated Cinco de Mayo (May 5). Although technically the holiday marks the anniversary of the victory in 1862 of Mexican defenders in Puebla against a larger invading force of French soldiers, it is the occasion for a celebration of Mexican culture. Mexican crafts, Mexican beer, Mexican food, and Mexican music all were in happy abundance.
Not long after we got home, Nancy called to me from the television room: “Osama Bin Laden is dead!” and together we watched President Barack Obama’s speech and the reaction and commentary. In another column in San Diego Jewish World, Rabbi Ben Kamin makes a point of the appropriateness of the 9/11 mastermind being killed on a day commemorating the deaths of earlier victims of mass terror.
On television, I watched as a joyful, college-aged crowd gathered outside the gates to celebrate. It looked to me like a football rally or a New Year’s Eve celebration, with the students singing, “Na-Na-Na-Na, Hey-Hey-Hey, Good-bye” and, in a take-off on the Wizard of Oz, “Ding Dong! Osama is Dead.”
I also heard commentators filling air time by saying that Bin-Laden’s death was a “game”-changer.
Predictably, we also heard warnings about possible retaliation against American institutions and American citizens. And while the terrorists are at it, they might attack Israeli and Jewish targets, should they get the chance.
And I wondered. Are we all dancing in the Cabaret?
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Harrison is editor of San Diego Jewish World. He may be contacted at sdheritage@cox.net