InterAct's "Skin in Flames' (2nd review)

Two elephants in the room

STEVE COHEN

I saw Skin In Flames the day that the Hollywood movie about Daniel Pearl’s kidnapping and beheading opened, and I couldn’t help but think of western civilization’s penchant for turning a buck on anything, including tragedy. Although I’d been forewarned by Robert Zaller’s review in Broad Street Review, I hoped Skin In Flames might learn something about media and the Third World. But Skin in Flames is not a cogent examination of that issue.

The plot— about American involvement in a Third World country— suffers gaping holes large enough for a convoy of humvees, and more red herrings than you’ll find in all the fishing nets in the Gulf of Aqaba.

This flawed script received crisp direction by Set Rozin, an excellent set by Matt Saunders, fine lighting by Peter Whinnery and great sound by Christopher Colucci. Joe Guzman gave a superb performance of untroubled smugness as Dr. Brown, a UN medical official who is a suave, manipulative sadist. The estimable Buck Shirner had the tough job of portraying Frederick the photojournalist with bewilderment and, although he’s been in wars he has to implausibly act shocked at seeing a dead body.

Leah Walton had the even harder task of portraying annoying fanaticism for 85 minutes. The victimized Charlotte Northeast as Ida was impassive.

But there’s no point in my covering the same points as Zaller’s article. So let me concentrate on the two elephants in the room.

Photographers vs. killers

First, the plot turns on the resentment of a woman who thinks she is (or pretends to be) the woman whom Frederick photographed being thrown in the air by an explosion 20 years earlier. It became a famous photo, akin to the little girl running from a napalm explosion in Vietnam. But the obvious question is never addressed: Why isn’t she thankful that she survived when all her classmates were raped or murdered? And why does she resent the photographer who took her picture but not her countrymen who committed the atrocities? Why does the playwright expect us to automatically feel that everyone in war photos is a victim of exploitation?

Clint Eastwood examined that topic in his film Flags of Our Fathers, which told of the Iwo Jima flag-carriers who, after the conquest of that island, were sent home on a PR mission while their comrades remained in harm’s way. That trip to the USA was exploitation; the mere showing of them in a photograph was not.

Sex behind the curtain

Second is the graphic nudity (which some critics warned against). While the photographer and his interviewer ignore them, the other two players engage in oral sex in the center of the stage. It’s ingenious and necessary because it shows what the doctor will demand from the mother of an ill patient in return for medicine. Playwright and director deserve credit for the handling of this scene without letting it become pornographic.

Later, the doctor orders Ida to submit to some specific sadistic acts. There we run into a dramatic problem, because the doctor draws a curtain across the area that was openly viewed in the earlier scene. This is a cop-out. I don’t actually want to see sadism, nor do I want the actors to be hurt. But Rozin could have found some stagecraft to simulate the action while covering up the most brutal moments. I have confidence in his know-how. To allow the doctor to draw a curtain is out of character and dramatically destructive.
This display of the doctor’s shameless cruelty is the best part of the play, and Guzman’s portrayal is riveting. But the rest of the plot bogs down like a melodramatic soap opera. Pity.



To read another review by Robert Zaller, click here.