As the world remains horrified by the terrorist attacks in Israel and the subsequent devastation of Gaza amid the suffering of Palestinians there, Joshua Harmon’s immensely compelling Prayer For the French Republic arrives on Broadway, placing a sharp focus on what it is to be Jewish, past and present. And while the play predates current events, it delves into the many complex facets of Judaism – from the tragic history of religious persecutions to the political divisions pro and con that dominate headlines today. But to be clear, this is not a didactic exercise. Harmon, with the assist of a stellar production, manages to provoke thought in the most dramatically engaging way.
The story concerns five generations of the Parisian Salomon family whom we first meet in 2016 and later through flashbacks in 1944-46. It begins with the arrival of Molly, a 20 year old American student who’s studying abroad to improve her French. (They speak English but we’re meant to believe they’re conversing in French.) She’s meeting her distant cousin Marcelle for the first time. The family connection goes back to their great grandparents who survived the holocaust but were separated during the war. Some Salomons stayed in France while others came to America. The American contingent strayed from their Jewish roots while the French Salomons had very mixed attitudes about their faith.
[Read Frank Scheck’s ★★★★★ review here.]
Marcelle and her brother Patrick were raised without much religion but when Marcelle married Charles Benhamou, a Sephardic Jew, she and their family became more observant. Marcelle’s 26 year old son, Daniel embraced his Jewishness while his older sister, Elodie, struggling with manic depression, is mostly argumentative.
Harmon’s depiction of the family dynamic resonates brilliantly. Their interactions, both loving and combative, have a stunning ring of truth. We first see it when Daniel enters, bloodied and bruised from an anti-semitic hate crime. Marcelle’s over-reaction is what you’d expect from a shocked mother. She insists that Daniel conceal his yarmulke when he goes out in public. Daniel and his father’s reactions are more measured and they start to think the political climate in Paris (following the Charlie Hebdo incident) is not safe for Jews and maybe it’s time for a move to Israel.
On Takeshi Kata’s neatly designed turntable set, the action soon shifts to 1944 where we see an elderly couple sitting at a kitchen table. They are Marcelle’s great grandparents, Irma and Adolphe Salomon, who’ve managed to avoid capture in Nazi-occupied France while keeping the family piano business running. They are fretting over the fate of their children and grandchildren who were separated during the war.
The contemporary scenes of the Salomon/Benhamou clan are dominated by discussions, often heated, about the current state of affairs in the Jewish community. It culminates in a lengthy Act II monologue featuring Elodie’s motor-mouth rant on the Israeli/Palestinian conflict and public perceptions about Judaism. It’s a tour de force for the actress, Frances Benhamou, whose last name is coincidentally the same as her character. It only seems to confirm that she was born to this role. Her prickly takes and snobbish condescension toward what she regards as uninformed Americans like Molly are delivered to perfection.
In between family scenes, Marcelle’s brother Patrick serves as narrator in the play, expounding on Jewish history while filling in narrative holes. He is close to his sister but highly cynical about her adherence to Jewish traditions. He has little interest in religion and it creates a rift between them.
Back to Irma and Adolphe, it’s 1945 now. The war has ended and their son Lucien and teenage grandson Pierre (touchingly portrayed by Ari Brand and Ethan Haberfield) have returned from a concentration camp, shell-shocked. Other family members who were with them, perished. It’s a fraught reunion as they struggle to regain some semblance of normalcy from their pre-war lives. Later we find out that Pierre ends up taking over the family’s piano business and marries a Catholic woman. A clear indication that he felt his Jewishness was not worth preserving in his children, Marcelle and Patrick.
The production is directed with great heart and welcome humor by David Cromer. It makes for powerful theater that’s as entertaining as it is enlightening. And it’s all terrifically enhanced by a sublime ensemble performing with absolute authenticity. The four women in the cast retained their roles from the Off-Broadway production, and for good reason. In addition to Frances Benhamou, Molly Ranson as Molly, declaring herself to be Jewish by extraction, comes off stereotypically naive at first but later holds her own when sparring with cousin Elodie. Nancy Robinette is the embodiment of maternal goodness as Irma. Her final scene is a touching prayer from the grave. And Betsy Aidem, at the play’s focal point as Marcelle, is just wonderful, running the gamut of motherhood – protective, overbearing, loving and vulnerable.
The male performers are equally impressive. Anthony Edwards has the difficult role as both omniscient narrator and the pragmatic Patrick, and he nails both. Nael Nacer plays Charles with quiet strength and dignity; the veterans, Daniel Oreskes as Adolphe and Richard Masur as elderly Pierre are simply outstanding in their understated simplicity. And the young Aria Shahghasemi exudes strong presence as the “susceptible” Daniel.
While there is much to applaud, the play is not without flaws. Molly’s romantic relationship with “cousin” Daniel feels somewhat forced. The three hour running time with two intermissions could be trimmed and it stretches credulity that Molly could be so fluently conversant in French after spending such a relatively short time in the country.
Criticisms aside, Prayer For The French Republic is a must see for anyone who’s interested in deepening their understanding of the Jewish experience through the ages. At play’s end, Elodie asks her 86 year old grandfather Pierre “Why do they hate us?” And not surprisingly, she supplies her own answers, firing off a litany of reasons so often cited throughout history. Pierre has no real answer for her but when it comes down to choosing between faith, country or family, he offers the wisdom of an old Jewish man who survived against all odds.
If there’s an overriding theme in the play it would be this: The Jews who survive know when to leave. Charles quotes a mantra that his family, fleeing persecution in Algeria, often recites: “It’s the suitcase or the coffin.” Sadly, as the Benhamous contemplate a more secure life in Israel, recent events prove there is no safe harbor for Jews (or anyone) fearing violence from religious persecution.
Prayer for the French Republic opened January 9, 2024, at Samuel J. Friedman Theatre and runs through March 3. Tickets and information: manhattantheatreclub.com
