“Sweetheart, I’m fine, and I’m running for my life, I cannot talk to you right now,” Rep. Norma Torres (D-Calif) recalls telling her son, when he telephoned her while she was scrambling down the Capitol staircase escaping the mob on January 6, 2021.
Exactly a year after the storming of the US Capitol, Torres and 22 other female members of Congress who were endangered on that day became characters in a work of documentary theater called “Running for My Life” at Contra Costa Civic Theater in California, put together by that community theater’s artistic director Marilyn Langbehn.
Two years later, New York City Center produced another work of documentary theater, about a January 6th insurrectionist, entitled “Fatherland,” conceived and directed by Stephen Sachs
On the fifth anniversary of the January 6 insurrection, below is a reposting of my interview with Ms. Langbehn and my review of “Fatherland,” as an act of resistance against the efforts by the instigator of that day of terror, and his craven supporters, to erase it from history.
From January 6, 2022:
Jonathan Mandell: How did this play “Running For My Life” come about?
Marilyn Langbehn: Last year, right after the events took place, I found out about this article from the publication The 19th where they had contacted all 143 female members of Congress, and asked them to talk about their experiences on that day. And 23 of the representatives, all of them Democrats, agreed to go on the record. I looked at the article and thought, this is a perfect opportunity to let people know what it felt like from the inside. And so I got together a group of actors, and we read it on Zoom. And it was so well received, that we decided to do it again about two weeks later. And at that time, at the end of the second reading, we said, we will do this again on the anniversary.
-Is there any difference between the script of “Running for My Life” and the original article, which is put together as a kind of oral history?
No. I let the ladies speak for themselves. The only changes are at the beginning to provide context, and some way to wrap it up at the end. The ending is still sort of free floating depending on what happens in the next day — if there’s some sort of public statement that makes good sense for us to use
So I take it from what you just said that it’s a live staged reading on Zoom
That’s correct.
What made you think that the article would make a good play?
I think because the descriptions of what happened are so vivid. It’s very much in the same vein as the Living Newspapers in the 1930s. It has all of the moving pieces of really good drama built right into it.
-Do any particular lines stick out for you?
When Abigail Spanberger texted back to her husband: “Don’t worry, my hair’s back in a ponytail,” which to her meant she was ready to fight. She’s a former CIA officer,
Pramila Jayapal was not interviewed, but a couple of the other representatives talk about how concerned they were for her because she just had had knee surgery, and they were worried about how to get her out of the Chamber on crutches.
Barbara Lee talks about how she decided to wear tennis shoes that day, because “I knew that something was going to go down.” She didn’t want to repeat what she remembered had happened on September 11th, when she had had to leave the Capitol in high heels and run up Pennsylvania Avenue.
They all have little moments, where they talk about being in their offices, they talk about getting conflicting information about how to put on a gas mask. These are the things that we didn’t see because the cameras were all focused on what was going on outside. The imagery is indelible. One of the things that I loved — well, “loved” is the wrong word obviously – but I was struck by the theater of it, the imagery. All you have to do is listen to them and you immediately begin to conjure it up yourself.
-Did all these real-life characters being women help draw you in?
Absolutely. The reading falls under a series in our theater called Reading Stage, which is dedicated to presenting the work of women and playwrights of color.
-Is there any difference between the script of “Running for My Life” and the original article, which is put together as a kind of oral history?
No. I let the ladies speak for themselves. The only changes are at the beginning to provide context, and some
–How common is it for a community theater to engage in new work that deals with the pressing issues of the day?
I think that that depends on a number of factors — the interest level of the producing organization to do the work and the interest level of the community to support it and see it. We’re really lucky where I am. We have a very engaged, very savvy audience and they love this kind of work.
–Have there been other works of theater about the January 6th attack on the Capitol, or the events surrounding it?
I haven’t heard of anything. It doesn’t mean they’re not out there. I’m certainly not plugged in everywhere, but I’ve been kind of looking to see and I haven’t seen anything else.
–Does that surprise you?
Yes and no. The history of this thing is obviously still being written. There’s going to be so much coming out especially once we start hearing the testimony and findings from the January 6th Commission.
If you think about it, we’re still waiting for the great 9/11 play, whatever that looks like. Some parts of our history are harder to capture theatrically. It’s a queston of what story wants to be told. I’m not sure that we know that yet.
“Running for My Life” is a snapshot in time of one very specific group of people, with a very specific reaction to events. There’s a lot more to tell about what we experienced. We’ll have to wait to see who the artists are that want to take on that challenge.
from September 26, 2024
:Fatherland” is an unsettling title, a word that movie-goers associate with Germany under the Nazis, but there are several reasons why it fits this true story of the first man to be put on trial for attacking the United States Capitol on January 6, 2021. “Fatherland” is just as much the story of the man’s relationship with his teenage son, who turned him into the FBI. And it is the story of his disturbing worship of Donald Trump.
“If Trump was not involved, my father would have never been there on the 6th,” Jackson Reffitt testified during the trial of Guy Wesley Reffitt – which we hear the actor Patrick Keleher as the son say verbatim on stage at the New York City Center.
Although, oddly, the names of the real-life characters are never mentioned, director Stephen Sachs, who conceived of “Fatherland,” relies entirely on the public record (the court transcript, public statements, case evidence), and four capable performances (father, son, prosecutor, defense attorney), to re-create the trial, and also depict the scenes described in the testimony. In this no-frills production originally produced at L.A.’s Fountain Theater, where Sachs is the long-time artistic director, we are brought into a story that has some of the elements and impact of a Greek tragedy, but without those time-tested plays’ insight or catharsis. In some ways, we’re all still in the middle of the story.
The father was an oil worker who got continually promoted until, as the chief of operations, he traveled the world, bringing his wife and three children to live in luxury accommodations in exotic locations, such as a condo in Malaysia with a view of the ocean.
“He was one of the best dads ever,” the son says. It is a testament to Ron Bottitta’s stand-out portrayal of the father that we can see his affection in the way he interacts with the son, even when they argue about politics – at least initially.
The good life came to an end, when the price of oil collapsed, the father lost his job, they moved back to Texas, and used up all their savings.
This coincided with the election of Donald Trump as president.
We see the father read aloud from Trump’s “The Art of The Deal.” Soon, we hear the recorded voice of Trump himself. When Donald Trump’s voice plays , it’s accompanied by a flicker of lights behind the backdrop – which could literally be taken as the glow of a television set, but also evokes an Oracle. That’s certainly how the father starts to view Trump.
He starts listening avidly to Fox News and Newsmax, speaks angrily against Antifa and Black Lives Matter, and about the failed promise of 1776. Things escalate. He joins a right-wing militia called the Texas Three Percenters, starts carrying a gun on his hip. After Trump loses the election, upon learning of the “Be there – will be wild” Tweet, the father says on the phone to his new compatriots: “We march on D.C. on the Sixth. Our president needs us.”
Much of this is recounted in Q and A testimony between the prosecutor (Anna Khaja) and the son, but the father is given many monologues (much of it apparently recorded by his son) – some of it nearly-eloquent defenses of political beliefs (“I will follow the government as long as it follows the Constitution.”) but also an account of his experiences on January 6th that is beyond passionate – it seems amplified by crazy, or at least adrenaline.
It may just be my personal political beliefs that allow me to understand why his son is scared into contacting the FBI (and motivated to record his father), while at the same time prevent me from understanding the father’s transformation into violent Trumpism. But I don’t really think it’s just my politics. Rather, there’s an imbalance inherent in the play. The father does get his say, but the play feels presented from the son’s point of view; it’s framed that way. The son is the one testifying; we hear no testimony from the father; his scenes are in effect illustrating the son’s testimony. The only analysis we get is from the son: “This is a painful, slow story of my father falling into a horrible community to attempt to find his place in his life,” he says at one point. This struck me as too simple.
In his cross-examination of the son, the father’s defense attorney (Larry Poindexter) insinuates the son was motivated to betray his father by politics (he was a Bernie Sanders supporter), by fame (he was interviewed by many publications) or by greed (he put up a Gofundme page.) But the lawyer also suggests his client may be a drunk, a braggart, and possibly mentally ill.
I wondered how the father would analyze himself.
This is not the fault or a flaw of “Fatherland” – or if it is so, it’s unavoidable. They went with the material available. But the result was that I’m no further along in understanding what’s been happening in this country. I might not be alone.
“Do you consider your father dangerous?” the prosecutor asks early on.
“I don’t really know him anymore…”
Fatherland
Fountain Theater at New York City Center through November 23, 2024
Running time: 80 minutes no intermission
Tickets: $55 – $85
Conceived and Directed by Stephen Sachs
Scenic Design by Joel Daavid
Lighting Design by Alison Brummer
Costume Design by Danyele Thomas
Sound Design by Stewart Blackwood
Cast: Ron Bottitta as Father, Patrick Keleher as Son, Anna Khaja as U.S. Attorney, and Larry Poindexter as Defense Attorney
Photos by Maria Baronova
