Many years back – too many for me to be wholly comfortable – in the midst of an interview I already felt was going wrong, as a taxi confusion had left me stranded and then very late, one of the academics on the panel asked me what I thought about the fact that the late Susan Sontag had gone to Bosnia at the height of the break up of the former Yugoslavia to stage a play. At that point, less culturally aware than I am now, I did not know who Susan Sontag was – so burbled on about the belief (however mistaken or touchingly naïve) about culture unifying all peoples. It clearly worked – or did not do significant damage – as, 23 years on, I am still teaching International Politics.
This thought came to me last night, as I was watching the impressive ‘Ukraine Unbroken', a collection of five shorter plays examining and exploring the ongoing conflict from a variety of angles. And it reminded me that I had been wrong then, even though the situations are different – Sontag had sought to go to the crisis, whereas Nicolas Kent's production, fuelled by a committed troupe of talented actors, playing a multiplicity of roles throughout the evening and linked by the personal testimony and haunting bandura music provided by Mariia Petrovska, was using different cultural lenses from a greater distance. In that sense, it was achieving its aim – not to seek to unify a warring populace to some higher cause but to both entertain and educate, ideally in equal measure.
And this is a necessary role for the theatre generally – and for this production particularly – to undertake. Even issues as serious and as significant as Russia's military intervention to change the borders of Europe for a third time, following the almost forgotten invasion of Georgia in 2008 and the taking of Crimea in 2014 (the first play, Jonathan Myerson's ‘Always', is set just before this, at the height of the Maidan protests), can be forced off the media's agenda, either by the tawdry (Jeffrey Epstein), the trivial (sadly, much of British political commentary these days) or by President Trump's ‘crisis of the week' approach to international politics, with Ukraine now vying with Venezuela, Greenland, the ongoing tragedy in Gaza and, in recent days, Iran for the limited attention span of television and the wider viewing public. Not only that, but – being able to take a step back from the day-to-day reporting of what Harold Macmillan called ‘events, dear boy, events' – drama can focus more on the human impact of conflict and consider matters from a range of different angles and time periods.
This is what ‘Ukraine Unbroken' - a reference not only to Ukraine's continued courageous resistance but also to the exploration of the crisis from inception to the present day over five different pieces in tone and approach – seeks to do and, to a large extent, succeeds in doing. What was particularly striking – emphasising the complexities of conflict – was the underlying theme that connected many of the plays, regarding heroes and villains. In the most courageous piece of the evening, ‘Three Mates' – a midnight monologue on the nature of modern masculinity as much as anything, written and translated by Natalka Vorozhbit and Sasha Dugdale respectively and delivered well by Ian Bonar – rather than view Ukrainians simply as noble defenders of their land, our lead character, Andriy, has gone into hiding, desperate to survive the war but aware that, compared to one of his friends, the unseen Max, he will be viewed as a coward (the third mate – in a pointed version of the Two Ronnies and John Cleese's famous sketch on class – has bribed his way to Vienna and is worried about a forthcoming skiing trip).
Similarly, and injecting a welcome degree of humour into the proceedings, there was David Edgar's ‘Five Day War', utilising the full cast – just six actors in total, backed by a committed production team that made the necessary set changes swiftly as Mariia played – to good effect in a satirical tale of Russian fantasy politics. In an unusual take on events, with more than a hint of ‘The Death of Stalin' to proceedings, we are invited to join the preparations for the forthcoming interim Ukrainian government, once the ‘special military operation' completes its glorious task of liberation in just five days and Zelensky falls from office. Viewing events from the blinkered perspective of Russian supporting Ukrainians, vying for top jobs that never came, shut off from events in the real world, as the convoy literally ground to a halt before reaching Kyiv, worked very well, with the worrying last line that war would now have to be fought inch by inch, damaged building by damaged building.
At times – and notably in the relatively underwhelming ‘Wretched Things' by David Greig – the balance between entertainment and education needed to be readjusted a little. While again considering matters from a different angle, on the ground with a Ukrainian military unit confronting an ethical dilemma amidst battle – something soldiers must confront on a regular basis – some of the dialogue felt a little contrived, a seminar staged, as the three characters (played well by the aforementioned Bonar, Daniel Betts and David Michaels – both of whom were better served in the earlier fayre, notably in the satirical ‘Five Day War') debated and declaimed in a scenario that should be natural but felt a little too contrived in its desire to explore the ethical dilemma at the core of the drama.
This is a minor criticism – in an evening such as this, variety is the spice of life, offering something for everyone and lessons for all. The final two plays – ‘Always', noted above, and ‘Taken' by Cat Goscovitch – although markedly different in scenario, revolved around the tensions between parenthood and principle, exploring the personal costs of momentous political events. In ‘Always', a more claustrophobic piece, looking down – both literally and figuratively – on the Maidan protests, two parents – Michaels, here more villain than his heroic Sarge in ‘Wretched Things', and the consistently impressive Sally Giles, moving from pained parent to scheming politician to humanitarian worker with ease – wrestle with the future of their protesting son, seeking to balance parental concern with pride in his principled stance. And, in ‘Taken', shedding light on one of the less reported crimes of the Russian invasion – the forcible capture and movement of children, ludicrously claimed by the Russian authorities here as a two-week holiday camp – we see a fractured relationship between mother – Jade Williams – and daughter – Clara Read – play out in increasingly sad stages.
There is a lot to take in – the running time weighs in at two hours and forty minutes, including interval – but we should seek to take it all in, to be amused one minute and appalled the next, forced to confront difficult truths and distressing situations. Ukraine, still fighting, should not be forgotten. This play – in achieving its mission to both entertain and educate – makes a valuable contribution to keeping Ukraine, its heroic people and its important mission for wider European security, in our hearts and minds.
It runs until 28 March.
Review: David Brown Photos: Tristram Kenton