The Physicists by Friedrich Dürrenmatt
Directed by Sophie Buchan and Sara Carroll
Burton Taylor Theatre, 27-31.1.4

What's a scientist who believes that his discovery will lead inexorably to the extinction of humankind to do? Via an almost surreal scenario in which the eponymous physicists are held in a mental asylum, Dürrenmatt's play, written in 1961, poses this dilemma, raising many more questions about the scientist's responsibility for the results of his work.

Scientists fall into two camps, represented respectively by two of the incarcerated physicists who apparently believe themselves to be Isaac Newton and Albert Einstein. 'Newton' speaks for the purists, convinced of the intrinsic value of scientific knowledge. Exquisitely excited by formuli explaining life, the universe and everything, they are too busy advancing the boundaries of human understanding to be concerned about the wider impacts of their work. 'Einstein', who famously wrote to Roosevelt warning him of the potential development of the atomic bomb, heads up the 'Knowledge is Power' lobby, which takes the view that scientists should use this power for political ends. The role of the third physicist in the asylum, Möbius, is to illustrate that neither of these positions free the scientist from his slavery to the state, which will use the results of his research for war-mongering regardless of the scientist's motivation.

The terrible failings in human nature lead to war, and war, with this new scientific knowledge, means total destruction. Ranging from a power-hungry doctor to a weak-willed, essentially good but ineffectual police inspector, the characters in the play underline this sad truth. Flawed humanity is simply not ready for the responsibility of unbounded energy. The darkest aspect of the play is found in the murders of three innocent women, nurses at the asylum. In microcosm, these murders recall the civilians who have died, and may yet die, now that the Pandora's box of nuclear physics is open.

A fabulously foppish James Corbet Burcher played Newton to great effect. For both Newton and Einstein, played by Ed Chappel, more attention to comic acting than serious meant that the 'mad' scenes were both more believable and more amusing than the 'sane'. Noble Möbius, played by Dominic Smith, delivered a hypnotic 'Song of Solomon to the Cosmonauts'. Displaying versatile skills, Amy Jackson played the two most feminine characters in the play, Möbius' pitiful wife and a love-struck nurse. Michael Reed was excellent in several supporting roles, with particularly well-observed mannerisms as the Oskar Rose, the Preacher, whilst Lucy Underwood carried off the most extreme caricature as the bitter and literally twisted psychiatrist.

'A thought can never be unthought'. The play's final twist illustrates that once knowledge exists, it will seep out and fall into the hands of those who most desire it. It is for this reason that the play has chilling relevance today. Even though they have proved hard to find, WMD are here to stay. The seeds of our mutually assured destruction are still ready to sprout.

Nancy Gladstone, 27.1.04

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