"Copenhagen" finds balance of emotions, equations

Scientifically dense, stylistically abstract and nearly three hours in length, it is easy to imagine a production of Michael Frayn's "Copenhagen" that is unbearable. It hinges not only on complicated quantum theory but also on obscure historical record and staged without context or explanation, with the three main characters posthumously reliving the same night over and over; to call the play a challenge is something of an understatement.

Fortunately, Kenyon's production rose to the challenge, exploring the meaning and beauty in even the driest of Frayn's passages. Directed by Dan Takacs '09, the interplay between the show's three characters was occasionally hilarious, often poignant and always captivating. There were few, if any, moments when the action dragged. As repetitive as the play's action was-as they relive the same night, as they discuss the same topics, even as they speak the same lines-there is the sense that the play is heading somewhere, that with each repetition the play circles ever closer to the underlying meaning.

The play's set was sparse, with a table and chairs, a coat rack, a door and a few odds and ends. The characters zipped around the stage with precision and gusto as they bounced off each other emotionally. Takacs clearly spent a great deal of time rehearsing the physicality of the show, and the work shows-the actors, rearranging set pieces and striding through every corner of the space, were clearly comfortable with their environment. The almost frenetic activity they displayed was often rewarding, as convoluted scientific concepts became performances instead of lectures.

There were moments, however, when the actors seemed to be in motion merely because they had not moved in a while. Pieces of physical activity within the play, called stage business, abounded-snatching a hat back and forth, an inexplicable lighter being passed among the cast, suitcases perpetually in motion-and it seemed like business for business's sake, not genuine or productive, simply there to give the audience something to view.

Though some credit for the show's accessibility must certainly go to Takacs, it could not have been done without a committed and energetic cast. Werner Heisenberg, played by Griffin Horn '09, Niels Bohr, played by Clay von Carlowitz '09 and Margrethe Bohr, played by Cory Anderson '09 were each crucial characters, for the interplay between these three is what drives "Copenhagen." Horn's Heisenberg was jaunty and competitive, too caught up in the excitement of the moment to see the outcome of his actions. Problems for him were "tantalizingly difficult," and his youthful exuberance was tangible.

The age of von Carlowitz's Bohr was equally apparent-slow and methodical, "heroically abstract and logical" as Heisenberg refers to him, von Carlowitz was the consummate learned professor to Horn's eager pupil.

Bohr, however, was played with two distinct sides, not only the deliberative professor but also a playful, intensely driven competitor who glories in his conquests no less than his prize student. The working through of this intricate relationship is what is most intriguing in this production of "Copenhagen."

Equally important, however, is the role of Margrethe Bohr. Margrethe serves as the audience's stand-in, observing but not fully comprehending the scientific conversation. Her most crucial role, however, is as a contrast to the intensely technical men onstage. Margrethe is the character most concerned with humanity, with the personal, emotional nature of what is coming to pass.

Anderson's Margrethe was poised and precise-each syllable was delivered with energy and articulation-but she seemed at points to vary between testy and alarmed: her deep, underlying emotions were never fully realized. This made the dynamic between the three somewhat weighted towards the two male characters' relationship, with her role seeming less critically important than it should be. Despite this, though, Anderson did an able job of delivering both some of the funniest lines in the play and some of the most tragic.

At its heart, "Copenhagen" is a show about the connection between the personal and the scientific. Bohr notes that it can be painfully difficult to extricate the politics from the physics, and as we delve deeper and deeper into this production, we see how closely the two are interwoven. "Copenhagen" was a success because it did not attempt to do this. In this show, when the characters discussed theories or posited hypotheses, they were speaking directly to the others onstage, revealing their desires and their fears.