[img]2166|exact|||no_popup[/img]Mary Eileen O'Donnell and Jeanette Horn in Oy!

Oy! is simple in concept but profound, mostly, in effect. Two elderly Jewish sisters, embodied on stage with a full measure of poignant humanity by Mary Eileen O’Donnell and Jeanette Horn, reminisce about World War II, the Holocaust, and their own lives on their return from a trip to Germany to share their experiences with a younger generation in need of a history lesson.

Revived by The Actors' Gang after last year’s successful run, the play by Hélène Cixious is notable for its naturalistic dialogue and its affectionate portrait of sisters who know each other so well that they demonstrate how familiarity breeds, not contempt, but the capacity for deep bonds. Such is the depth of their relationship, and the depth of the performances that we enjoy watching these two ladies weather the irritation of personal quirks and foibles to reveal solidarity of spirit.

Also notable, albeit problematic, is Cixious’ selective use of narrative lacuna. Something troubling occurred during the sisters’ trip. But much like a black hole, we are only aware of it indirectly by the way it bends the light of dialogue around itself. A lesser play would have treated the unspoken event as a MacGuffin, but Oy! makes use of it as an engine to propel the sisters into considering matters they would prefer to leave to the past.

Alas, this deliberate omission, however compelling, drives a bit of bad-faith philosophizing, namely, leaving audiences with an open-ended question. Like one of those New Yorker cartoons in need of a caption, or an unresolved whodunit in which the murderer’s identity is left to audience interpretation, Oy! strives to prod audiences into answering a critical question about the fall of the Third Reich and its aftermath. Yet the impression is one of surrender rather than provocation, as if the question is too difficult for Cixious to brave an attempt to answer it. Oy! becomes almost overly rooted in the past, with little attempt to bridge past history with the living present other than in the sense of preserving a vital memory for future generations.

By no means is the open end a fatal flaw; merely a disappointment for a play tackling such vital subject matter. In practical terms, however, it creates confusion for the audience as the proceedings do not so much conclude as just stop. We might still be sitting at the theatre now were it not for the actors taking a bow and indicating that the play had run its course. This is emblematic of Georges Bigot’s occasionally problematic directing, which struggles in creating a sustainable momentum.  At the end, he seems to give up out of sheer exhaustion. An opening film that encapsulates the years between the end of World War I and the rise of Hitler’s Germany is stretched out by frivolous imagery, most of which could have been excised to convey the transition between the euphoria of the 1920s to the suffering of the ‘30s and, ultimately, the beginnings of Nazi evil. This is followed by an extended period of silence watching the sisters return home and cook dinner, a fragment of scenario that could have been trimmed by half without losing its quality as a still-life character portrait.

Technical concerns aside, there’s nothing to be upset about with a play that, intentionally or not, settles for service as a monument. Through the beautiful drama of the sisters’ relationship, Oy! reminds us not to forget the lessons of a defining moment of evil in our history – and lives up to the Gang’s mission of offering socially-conscious theatre. To remember, yes, but also to resist in humanity the impulse to marginalize and oppress the other.

Oy!, written by Hélène Cixious and directed by George Bigot. Onstage at The Actors' Gang (at the Ivy Substation), Thursday and Saturday evenings at 8, Sunday matinees at 2, until Sunday, Oct. 20. Tickets may be purchased online at www.theactorsgang.com or by phone 310.838.4264. Thursday night performances are Pay-What-You-Can with a suggested donation of $20.

Frédérik Sisa is the Page's Assistant Editor and Resident Art Critic. He is also a tweeting luddite and occasional blogger, and can be reached at fsisa@thefrontpageonline.com.