Theater Review: A Mirror Fractures, Like a Kaleidoscope

These are deeply worrisome times. Stability, democracy, countries, our neighbors—all seem less permanent than they once were. Sam Holcroft’s complex and frightening 2023 play A Mirror reflects this uncertainty. The play isn’t timely, nor is it meant to be. It’s more like a kaleidoscope—as is our current, fractured reality. We can look at this play and ask ourselves: Where do we stand? As artists, allies, soldiers, or simply as moral agents.

That’s a big lift, but this is a big play.

The audience barely knows when the play begins. We are guests at a wedding, but the event feels fraught, covert, and dangerous. Bride Mei (Kushi Beauchamp) and groom Adem (Jonathan Thompson) appear, but just as quickly vanish.

The scene shifts and Adem is being interrogated by government functionary Čelik (Leif Norby), whose charge is to vet the work of playwrights and determine if they align with the interests of the ruling regime. Adem is a humble former soldier and mechanic turned playwright. Mei too is a former soldier and now the assistant to Celik.

As Adem goes from nervous to terrified, over the course of the interrogation, his interrogator begins to show gradual curiosity toward him. Norby’s skilled portrayal leads us to wonder what motives lay beneath Čelik’s actions.

Čelik demands Adem write uplifting propaganda for the benefit of the audience. “What are they there for?” the interrogator asks. “To be reminded of the petty imperfections of their everyday lives? Or—to be transported, moved, entertained—and in the end, elevated. Inspired to look at their own lives in
a new light.”

Bringing in Bax (Joshua Weinstein), a playwright in the regime’s good graces, Čelik proposes that they will teach Adem to write a play properly. Bax has just written a thrilling and uplifting work about a recent military engagement, and the four of them begin to perform the script—which involves Mei acting out a full manual of arms with an umbrella.

It turns out that the retelling describes a battle Adem actually fought in, and his truthful remembrances soon collide with Bax’s agitprop. Bax’s play has heroism, noble death, and even a national anthem, but Adem remembers the obscene, gruesome reality of war.

Čelik replies to Adem’s objections, saying “we’re trying to push you beyond the surface details, to something deeper.” The irony, of course, is that they’re actually trying to keep Adem’s narrative in line with the government’s.

Much of the journey of Holcroft’s play exists in the volley between Čelik and Adem. The audience follows it back and forth. Is trying to dig below the surface an artist’s self-indulgence or his job? Is the surface all there actually is?

A Mirror asks how we look for the truth of a work of art—in this case a play. Do we compare it to reality or try to evaluate it in other ways? How much cooperation is possible between an artist and outside opinions before the work loses moral or artistic authority? Here in the post-truth United States, these conflicts are genuine. The play, though not at all easy, is highly recommended.

Third Rail Repertory presents A Mirror at CoHo Theater, 2257 NW Raleigh, through Sun March 15, $7-$60.50, more info, 16+