Where is god? Everywhere. Galileo is a religious experience for theater-worshippers

If you love Brecht, go experience this production. If you hate Brecht, go experience this production. If you have never been to the theater in your life, or if you live in it, go experience this production. Galileo at the Trap Door Theatre is a brilliant feast for the mind and soul; the concept so masterfully realized it is three-dimensional poetry manifested. The ensemble under the direction of Max Truax brings the script and its timely messages to life in a pinnacle of Brechtian tradition, brought home with powerful modern symbolism.

The story itself is straightforward: The great scientist is torn between his loyalty to Truth in Science and the forces that oppose and undermine that loyalty. Some of this battle is with himself – first seemingly minor compromises to feed his basic needs, then his human desire for the mundane comforts of daily life that serving the interests of the monied provide. Galileo strains as this tug of war becomes more sinister. Instead of compromising his time by taking a wealthy but inept student, or compromising his reputation by claiming another’s invention, he must choose between his life and the Truth of his Scientific discoveries when he is under the eye and the implements of the Holy Inquisition.

These themes mirror the battles we witness all around us today. Educational institutions, businesses and pubic figures are wrestling with how much of their loyalty to truth they are willing to compromise – either for the hope of continued federal funding or to avoid the harsh spotlight of right-wing hatred from dogma-driven authoritarians and their minions. There are still those among us who believe, as does Galileo for a time, that surely if we just approach those representatives of authority with proof, surely they will not just look, but will actually see. Spoiler alert, appealing to the better nature of vicious, single-minded authoritarians is not what delivers Galileo’s Truth to the world, and it won’t deliver us.

Truax and the cast, production and design artists honor the Brechtian core principles while re-envisioning and re-tooling the basic text into a what might be one of the most fully-realized versions of The Life of Galileo. Of course, this version of the script retains its essential didactic nature; of course, there is no fourth wall (or indeed, no third wall in the Trap Door venue). Expect that wherever you are seated at some point in the evening an expounding or ranting ensemble member will catch and hold your eye, directly addressing you for at least a moment. Between scenes projections summarize the coming events; their form reminiscent of a silent-movie narrative.

What is repeatedly captivating is the ode to Brechtian ‘gestus’; the combination of gesture, body language and physical form / movement that embodies meaning and physically communicates messages. Whether these moments are the brainchild of Amber Wuttke (Intimacy / Movement Director) or spring from the other artists of the ensemble, the physical story-telling is superb.

As Galileo’s contorts his principles Lovejoy contorts his physical form – in worm-like supplication, in cramped bowing to authority, in barefaced steadfastness to ill-suited defeat. There is a recurring theme of clockwork movement, recalling the beliefs about the heavenly crystal spheres. Time passes in drudgery while a group plods in a jerking, mechanical circle. As tensions swirl the young lovers Virginia and Ludovico dance their courtship in a formal choreography, orbiting the central scene. In a viscerally moving sequence the ensemble lurches and clicks into place uniformly, a set of gears, while robotically repeating their message.

The scene itself is sparse, allowing the ensemble to create the space with their bodies and movement. What is present is haunting; seemingly infinite ideas in the form of overlapping sketches and scribblings cover the walls. They appear to fade in and out of existence in shades of gray to black, their contents as tantalizingly almost decipherable as a dream.

When you go to experience this production, get in early – both to secure a seat with a straight-ahead view of the stage and to not miss a second of JOAN NAHID in her multi-role of Inquisitor. NAHID opens the show in movement that is a journey of its own; orbiting around the momentarily static Galileo adeptly played by DAVID LOVEJOY. NAHID is Fate, she is the Chorus, throughout the night she stalks the stage and Galileo, haunting him and foretelling his fall. Her presence is so otherworldly it is natural for her to manifest various dark forces the others shy from.

Lovejoy traverses Galileo’s struggles deftly, cycling from the man who is adamant at following only the truth, through the moral grey of compromising, and back. His Galileo is not a cardboard object lesson; Lovejoy brings us the range of his humanity. We feel his passion at discovery, his humor, his frustration and humiliation in the struggle. Every time he strips off his subservience and is once again resolute, naively believing that this time he (and Science) will prevail, we too are ready to fight.

Lovejoy doesn’t shy away from the ugly – the impatience, the self-righteousness, the moments of condescension and dismissiveness – especially characterizing Galileo’s interactions with his daughter, Virginia. As portrayed by GENEVIEVE CORKERY, Virginia is a fluttering bird, whose happy innocence runs into the walls of her father’s choices. Corkery lives Virginia’s character arc, a compelling journey and transformation from girlish possibility swallowing slights and loss until only a steely reed remains.

Galileo’s assistant, Andrea [SHAIL MODI] offers another journey from innocence. Modi and Lovejoy have effortless rapport as teacher and student, and their interactions go far in fleshing out Galileo the man. Modi’s Andrea lets us admire Galileo, perhaps idolizing him too much, maybe even falling in love with the vision of Galileo as the champion of science. After Galileo falls from that pedestal the image is shattered, and Modi delivers a wonderful interaction of bitterly sharp edges.

While the production warns of nudity, fear not, only the outrageously prudish would be offended. Perhaps a better warning would be for those who have sensitivity to strobing or moving light, as bright static filled screens face parts of the audience for significant stretches and caused at least one audience member physical discomfort. Despite this the screens are fascinating and potent symbols, used in gorgeously creative ways – alienation, authority, surveillance – forming a disturbing presence that is at once cold and dead, and chillingly implying life behind the moving static.

Be prepared for breathtaking moments that fuse light, sound, body, word and meaning into perfection. The Renaissance half-faint of Andrea enthralled, bathed in the light of the moon through the telescope, intoxicated by the earth-shaking knowledge he drinks in. The exquisite moment of a hand turning in a field of light, so exactly physicalizing the exploring mind into discovery, the tentative reach of humans into the unknown.

There are poignant moments when the emotional lives of the individuals shine through, with a reality and fullness of experience that breaks us out of the detachment imposed by a typical Brechtian presentation. Ludovico [CALEB LEE JENKINS] a noble with ‘no head’ for science is the Brechtian caricature who struts and poses and puffs out his bantam chest in threat and confrontation. In a moment of defeat we feel Ludovico’s loss hearing Jenkin’s voice break. Our breath stops when Corkery’s Virginia is almost invisible in her heartbreak. We hope against hope with Modi’s Andrea that Galileo will remain unbowed, and we despair with him when Truth is betrayed.

In a standout scene AMBER WASHINGTON (Fulganzio) absolutely side-swipes the audience with a moment of such pure and profound existential despair it makes us reel. Taking on a long passage that at first meanders around the mountain of its meaning, Washington pulls it into intensity and speed and simply explodes like pressurized magma with all of humanity’s desperate need for life’s suffering to have purpose, to have a reason. Washington shows us why the ineffable god must live in the heavens encircling a central earth, promising we will reach that reason, one day.

Highly Recommended

Reviewed by Soleil Rodrigue

Galileo runs May 8 through June 14 at 8 PM at the Trap Door Theatre, 1655 W. Cortland St, Chicago.

Tickets are $31 with two for one admission on Thursdays. More information is available at trapdoortheatre.com or by calling 773-384-0494

Additional information about this and other area productions can be found by visiting www.theatreinchicago.com