In 1972, with the Vietnam conflict dragging on, Arthur Miller 's view of human existence as a cosmic joke in "The Creation of World (and other business)" was not particularly appreciated. It ran a month after finally getting open with an impressive cast. Three decades later, with turmoil in the world back where Western civilization started, so to speak, the play seems more relevant, if no more hopeful. This manachean comedy, which ends with the world's first murder, returns to the wellspring of tragedy; the agony between absolute right and inevitable wrong. Its argument is probably more easily digested from the page, but the action is intriguing enough to warrant more frequent staging than has been seen. The first difficulty is finding an actor capable of playing God, a role usually reserved for the director.
IRNE winner Forrest Walter makes a plausible attempt at the role. Robed like a Biblical high priest, he watches or ignores the action from a leather office throne raised up against the side wall, right next to one of the stained glass windows. Peabody House was once a church--the window chosen has an omega at the top. Stairs in the opposite corner of the hall leading down to the first floor are the chosen entrance and exit for Lucifer, played in this production by Naaemah White-Peppers. She got a Norton for her Fringe work last year. Walters play his role with considerable heat, or is it tsurrus, while the stylish White-Peppers plays it cool. The contrast is effective, though the sexual implications may confuse things. The part of Lucifer probably wasn't written with a woman in mind.
As Adam, Marc Harpin is an amiable goofball, quite cute in his nude suit complete with pubes. Once created, Chinasa Ogbuagu's Eve is quicker on the uptake and soon begins to take over. There's more than a slight echo of Mark Twain in the Eden part of this script. When the Fall occurs, at Lucifer's seductive urging, Ogbuagu matches Walters' intensity. The two angels, Kate Fredric as Chemuel, the Angel of Mercy and Yindy Vatanavan as Azreal, the Angel of Death, seem somewhat out of place. These two amiable young ladies don't make much of their underwritten parts. Larger, more imposing male performers, as in the original, would have helped.
In the second act, after the birth of Cain, played by Samuel Young, and Abel, played by Michael Avellar, more drama seems possible. Incidentally, Young and Avellar are mute seraphim during the first--except when it's time for a Hallelujah. Avellar appeared at the Coop in last year's "Morning Star", and Young was in both "Letters to a Student Revolutionary", as was Vatanavan, and "Romulus". The first family is ready for the modern theatre, with less than marital bliss, sibling rivalry, and untold secrets. Young may be just a little too sullen, and Avellar a little too nerdy, but the antagonism is real. Miller was clearly in more familiar territory here than during the more philosophical exchanges during the first act. Perhaps a clearer father/son relationship between the Almighty and the Prince of Light would have helped. Given the casting that wasn't a possibility.
The other parts of Thomas M. J. Callahan's set made good use of the space, with Eden placed on the dais at the front of the hall, with a scrim behind allowing for an effective visitation by the Tempter. The Apple was a single fruit suspended on monofilament over a platform to one side, backed by an abstract forest drop. The center of the floor became the desert outside Eden. No costumer was credited, but various resources must have been tapped, included personal wardrobes. Only the angels needed something more. Matt Soule's lighting made good use of the Coop's aging equipment, as Callahan's had for the last show, which Soule designed. He did run up against the problem of varying skin-tones in a multi-ethnic cast. The darker skinned members were seemingly underlit at times. Original music and sound by Izhar Schejter, a jazz composer, was quite effective.
Metaphysical drama may be the only thing that closes faster than satire in the American theatre. The time may be right, however, to revive this lesser work by our greatest living playwright, which ran briefly off-Broadway in 2001. Whether this script is God arguing with man and vice versa, or Miller arguing with his mind's creations, the questions raised are real, and go back to the beginning. It just may not be the show for the holiday season.