Cold War Play’s Themes Still Painfully Relevant

A Review of Lee Blessings’ A Walk in the Woods

The California Theatre Center of Sunnyvale, California, has chosen for its summer season to revive contemporary playwright Lee Blessing’s 1988 play A Walk in the Woods, a microcosm of the entire Cold War, presented in an intimate two-character, two-hour, one-setting play. Sound implausible?

Well, okay — the play is really focuses more directly on the relationship and personalities of two arms negotiators, one Soviet and one American, who meet four times during one year for walks through “a pleasant woods on the outskirts of Geneva, Switzerland” to try to agree on some sort of partial disarmament treaty between their homelands. But just as each man represents his country in the literal sense, each man also represents the feelings and personality of both the populous and the governing forces of his respective country, along with his personal feelings about what his purpose is in these negotiations. Herein the audience is confronted with of all of the fears, hopes, distrust and power issues of decades of mounting imminent destruction, brooding competition and incredibly fragile survival; encapsulated in the conversation of two people, who we alternately love and hate, but finally identify with mightily.

The Russian negotiator is Andrey Botvinnik (played with pitch-perfect accent, attitude and timing by the entirely believable Charlie Shoemaker), an aging version of the stock theatrical character of the “wise fool.” While he appears to be all jocular smiles and casual wit, and continually plays the loveable, almost childish clown (at one point he weaves a crown of leaves to wear), in reality he is an experienced, confident man with a shrewd knowledge of people, who knows exactly what his government expects of him, and how to get what he wants. He is a total contrast to the American diplomat, John Honeyman (played with committed intensity by equity actor William Church, who looks very much like movie actor Luke Wilson). Honeyman is a laughably serious stiff who attempts to cover up his stereotypical American competitive drive (when left alone onstage after he gets Botvinnik to agree to work for a small change with his government, he looks like John McEnroe celebrating a match point) with hard edged formality, going by the book and using the politically correct terminology.

Andrey wants the two men to make friends before they start formal negotiations, whereas John thinks friendship can only come after they accomplish an initial settlement between their countries. The idea of the importance of basic human friendship and the common bond of humanity echoes significantly throughout the play. Andrey purports that there are no differences between people and the way they think; only differences in their traditions and ideologies, influenced by their geographical histories. He argues that America, surrounded by oceans and thereby unchallenged, believes in “conquest without competition,” with a doctrine of freedom and destiny. Russia, in contrast, has always been beset by the threat of invasion on all its borders, and therefore engaged in “conquest because of competition,” with a doctrine of security and control. If the Russians had come to North America, they would have become the same nation the United States did, and vice-versa—people are the same everywhere. Likewise, after enough prodding from John to “be serious,” he explains their governments are basically the same: both want to look as if they are the benevolent peace seeker. But according to Andrey (whose views are supported by the events of the play) neither government is willing to sacrifice any power, and neither is willing agree to any peace agreement put forth by the other, because both want to look like they are the stronger and smarter, and neither trusts the other!

If you are getting the idea that the issues in this play are complicated, you are correct. This makes sense; the issues of international diplomacy are infinitely complicated. The moral Andrey puts forth in the second act, however, is simple. To achieve a solid and lasting peace, he says, the governments and their people must find a way to develop trust and friendship faster than they are developing weapons technology. But he does not believe it will ever happen, or that either of their nations really want it to, because each nation is pouring millions of dollars, hours and men into their war preparation efforts, and only two little men conversing into their peace efforts. This view is perhaps overly simplistic, but seems a pretty good distillation of all the ancient history, embittered feelings and communication barriers that made up the cold war, along with most global conflicts.

The play wisely steers clear of specifics concerning time, people and what exactly the conditions being discussed are, instead concentrating on the universal and timeless themes of human vs. nation, people vs. politics and the psychology of international relations. The result is that sixteen years after its debut, it feels just distant enough to be viewed objectively, yet still terribly resonant in its frustrations over the seemingly hopeless situation of distrust that existed between the two superpowers for so many years, and still exists between so many countries today. A Walk in the Woods tells us that all people, wherever they live, are basically the same: we all want to survive, to be left alone and to leave others alone. Yet we mistakenly believe that safety and security can only come through possession of more power over others, and more ability to destroy. It’s easy to blame the steady escalation of international hostility on governmental forces, but as Andrey’s ruminations and John’s behavior suggest in the play, until the “man in the street” is truly willing to give up ultimate power, his government will keep trying to achieve it.

While the play ends pessimistically, it does offer its audience a chance to learn from observing all that these two men go through, and all that these two countries went through. A Walk in the Woods illustrates the similarities between the games played by the USSR and the USA during the cold war, and their common traits of arrogance, deceit and distrust. Today one of these two nations is collapsed, but one might suggest that the other continues to practice the same boorish behavior towards its international neighbors: a policy of aggression abroad inspired by fear at home. The play strongly invites a reconsideration of America’s foreign policy, then and especially now, reminding us that trust and friendship are perhaps better forms of security than the power of arms can ever be.

IF YOU’RE IN THE SF BAY AREA: A Walk in the Woods runs through July 24th as part of California Theatre Center’s “Summer Rep.” For more information or to order tickets, check out their website or call the box office: (408) 720-0873.