A sharp, distinctly Jewish, and often spellbinding reflection on craftsmanship, the search for love, faith and redemption.
First produced at Toronto’s Tarragon Theatre in 1996, Jason Sherman’s The Retreat sees its European premiere at the multi-award-winning Finborough Theatre, directed by Emma Jude Harris.
33 year old Rachel (Jill Winternitz) grapples with forging a belief system between her conservative cultural upbringing, her father’s politics and her work as a Hebrew school teacher in early 90s Toronto, finding herself forced to apologise or quit after criticising the Israeli government during a class. She longs to be a writer, and wants to make a difference, writing a screenplay in the hope that many people will one day see it.
David (Max Rinehart) appears to have it made as a successful script editor in his film production company. He also wants to make a difference – in his case, to his life, which he has decided lacks integrity, like the big-budget hollywood slasher flicks that he’s been churning out for fifteen years. ‘I have to get back to what I believe in’, he evangelises, ‘real films with heart, about real people!’
David believes he has found what he is looking for in Rachel’s earnest, unyielding script, landing heavily on his desk in an act of divine providence, and more so when he meets the intelligent young woman on his writing retreat in the Calgary mountains. Over dinner, he waxes lyrical about how stories help us make sense of what it means to be human, and the duty of the storyteller to tell us our place in the world, to remind us, as the world becomes more confusing, that we deserve unconditional love. Read, he deserves unconditional love and a heroic starring role in his own story, bored with the path his choices have led him down.
As they embark on a whirlwind affair among the pines, with David slipping off his wedding ring when his marriage looms between them, there is a startling moment where Rachel sees off an elk, advancing with hands for antlers, and leaving David no choice but to follow suit. She ultimately battles against more insidious threats, navigating the shaping of her own desires and artistic vision in the face of David’s narcissistic infatuation.
The Retreat sees a stand-out performance from Jonathan Tafler, beautifully portraying Rachel’s father Wolf, with whom she has a wonderful relationship. His long-refuted requests for herring and sour cream from the deli opposite the care home, and suggestions Rachel attend the local Jewish singles dance, seem always to come with a wink, as if Wolf is remembering to play up to his role as Jewish father. ‘Dad! The guilt,’ Rachel protests, placing a hand over her heart, ‘it sits right here’. He takes her hand, and throws those feelings to the wind, providing steadfast advice and support amid the turbulent events of the play’s action. ‘Say it’, he insists, ‘I’m not alone’.
The Finborough Theatre’s intimate space is transformed by Alys Whitehead’s masterful set design into a bright, elegant snapshot of their world. A Chagall-esque painting of swirling houses reiterates our characters’ fraught search for a sense of belonging, and the carpet is surrounded by a dark wood chip forest floor, crunched over by the audience in the process of finding their seats, lending the stage a fittingly mystical quality.
The venue’s reputation as ‘probably the most influential fringe theatre in the world’ (Time Out) holds true – with lovely staff and a vital focus on vibrant new writing and unique rediscoveries, I fell in love with the play and the space, and can’t wait to return.