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If in
thinking about this year’s war, you have
found yourself weary of the loose flapping
of Fox lips and their exhortations to stand
behind the latest motivational aphorism
emanating from the Dog–-er, I mean, White
House, then get thee to the Music Box for
David Hare’s The Vertical Hour where a far
more considered discourse on the
increasingly fraught state of the world can
be found. As much about family dynamics and
personal morality as it is about the Iraq
war, The Vertical Hour succeeds best when
its primary character, a former war
correspondent turned academic, is engaged in
thoughtful, and polemical, dialogue with her
boyfriend’s father. As played by Julianne
Moore and Bill Nighy, and representing
America and Britain, these two characters
afford insight into the history of empire
and its ever-increasing costs. Whether
seated at a grand picnic table or stalking a
Welsh country lawn (made manifest by an
evocative set by Scott Pask), the two
characters reveal the numerous ways in which
we are all culpable when nations are at war.
Alas, there’s a dreadfully weak fifth and
final scene in which the audience is dragged
back to the stultifying confines of the
ivory tower (as if to imply we are always
students—or that we never learn?), and the
intensity of the preceding conversations and
the play’s momentum is immediately
dissipated—into near nothingness.
Prior to that scene, however, there’s
something to chew on and much to consider.
And, let’s face it, at this juncture, it
behooves all of us to be more contemplative
about what’s to be done.
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