I attended the premiere of a play in New York this week. Letters From Max: a ritual by Sarah Ruhl – she of the infamous In the Next Room (The Vibrator Play) – is the story of Ruhl’s own relationship with a student (Max) who joined her writing class as an undergraduate at Yale and instantly impressed her with his humour and precocious wisdom.
Almost at once we learn that Max is having chemo for serious cancer and thus is motivated by a Damoclean threat to write well and quickly.
The play was developed from the several years of correspondence (letters, emails, texts, phone calls and even poetry) shared between student and teacher and the big question for me, going into the play, was: how does a playwright portray herself? Surely this is a mission fraught with sentimental and revisionist danger.
The danger, however, is avoided – partly by centring the play squarely on Max so that Sarah becomes almost a sidekick. The danger is also avoided by the reversal of roles as Max becomes the teacher and Sarah is the character who most palpably grows. In fact, if I do have a criticism I would have liked to see more personal growth in the Max character (perhaps through the improvement in his poetry) but he appears fully formed from the start.
The action traverses issues of faith/non-faith; afterlife and eternity; death and life with frank discussions on how to deal with someone with a terminal illness.
So is the play morbid?
Far from it. No-one since Woody Allen at his funniest and best has dealt with these issues with such intelligence, insight and humour. The writing is of the highest quality but it is the exploration of humanity that leaves the deepest impression.
From a craft perspective, the play also enters dangerous territory in a number of ways. For a start, the fourth wall is smashed. So much of the play is monologue (sometimes dialogue) directed at the audience. In the hands of a lesser writer (or cast) this could have turned into pantomime but instead we are given a window into a profound intimacy.
The highest compliment I can pay any piece of theatre is that not once did I glance at my watch (over two hours). I was immersed, absorbed, riveted for the duration and can only applaud the generation of a work that is a tribute to the genius of the playwright and superbly honours the memory of the poet, Max Ritvo.
I’d love to see this come to Australia. Memo to Belvoir Street Theatre – you should be all over this.
Letters From Max: a ritual
Written by Sarah Ruhl
Directed by Kate Whoriskey
With Ben Edelman, Jessica Hecht and Zane Pais
Signature Theatre, New York
The Book Hammer 