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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