Broken Glass

Brooklyn, November 1938. The American newspapers are full of the atrocities in Germany and Philip Gellburg's nerves are barely in control as he talks to Dr Hyman about his wife's sudden paralysis. She sits in bed all day and does nothing but read the newpapers. Out of this deceptively simple beginning Arthur Miller's little known play starts a tragic and damning investigation into the darkness at the centre of American paralysis and anti-semitism during the second world war.

Unable to find a physical illness, Dr Hyman tries to find the psychological cause behind the anguish of this Jewish couple, and ends up getting caught in the sexual and emotional impotence at the heart of their marriage. Sex cannot be talked about in the America of the late thirties, only lied about, just as what was happening to the Jews cannot be mentioned. "The streets are covered with broken glass!" Sylvia Gellburg screams at her husband. She seems to be the only one brave enough to read the newspapers. That all the characters around her assure her that she has nothing to fear for the Jews is one of the play's crushing ironies.

The bed occupies centre stage in this spell binding performance of an awesome play. I have never seen an actor actually cry unaided before, or collapse from tension, and yet have enough control to convey the next, ever heightening twist of fear and pain. Peter Harness's performance as Philip Gellburg is intensely compelling. With his eyes in permanent shadow and a voice recalling the shattering American dream, he slowly incinerates before your eyes. Sarah Eddy is also brilliant as Sylvia Gellburt - fragile, wishful, naive, almost incapable of sex - she retells the entire history of the failed marriage by just the tone of her voice. The increasing hysteria between the couple is made yet more palpable by the strong supporting cast. The set is split, with the audience on either side of the stage, as if in an attempt to hold the terrifying realisations about self-loathing that the play uncovers. "What have you got against your face? A Jew can have a Jewish face," Sylvia Gellburg tells her husband. The hatred of himself has become a fear of everything out there, including his wife. At the centre of paralysis lies fear the play suggests. Broken Glass is a heartfelt plea to face this fear and tell the truth, even when you know if might not get you anywhere.

Aruna Wittmann 8/2/99