The strength of documentary theater, in which (per the program of Fatherland, at 59E59) “every word comes from court evidence, public statements and an official court transcript,” is that the audience can be presented a clear and concise view of the case, in the verifiable words of the actual participants. The weakness of documentary theater, alas, is that the effectiveness of the experience is dependent upon the perception, talent and skill of the folks enlisted to distill the case.
Fatherland, an import from The Fountain Theatre in Los Angeles, is—as one might glean from the title—one of those father/son affairs. Specifically, it is drawn from the 2022 trial of one Guy Wesley Reffitt, the first American convicted of insurrection in the U.S. Capitol attack on January 6, 2021. The transgressions of that day are familiar to us all, although one knows full well that different people of different stripes have differing views of the root causes. In any case, Reffitt—whose actions on the Capitol steps were prominently visible on that day—was convicted and sentenced to more than seven years in prison.
The play, conceived and directed by Fountain Theatre artistic director Stephen Sachs, chooses to focus on Jackson Reffitt, the perpetrator’s 19-year-old son. Watching Pop grow unhinged (through excerpts from his bible, more commonly known as “The Art of the Deal”) and violently radicalized, young Jack reports dear old dad to the FBI.
Now, there is a certain amount of dramatic interest inherent in this conflict, and Sachs spends much—or perhaps most—of his time concentrating on high-school student Jack and his estrangement from home.
While the words are drawn, literally, from the trial of Guy Reffitt, the person on trial in the basement playhouse at City Center seems to be Jack (Patrick Keleher). Guy (Ron Bottitta) is present now and then, reading excerpts from Trump or joining us in listening to the ex-president on the theater’s sound system. (Do we really need to hear this verbiage over and over? Where’s the mute button?) But most of the play is taken up with the son: Jack, explaining life with father, before and during. Jack, endeavoring to protect with his battered mom and sisters deep in the heart of Texas. Jack, being drawn out by the helpful U.S. Attorney. Jack on the witness stand, grilled by his father’s defense attorney.
All of which is, perhaps, more dramatically interesting than the actual case of United States v. Reffitt. We get little sense of the trial that this piece of documentary theater is attempting to document. Yes, the words—mostly Jack’s words—are presumably drawn from the court record. But what trial are we watching?
The most interesting element on display is the performance of Keleher, who draws a credible portrait of the teenager at the story’s center. Bottitta, though, is mostly sound and fury; understandably so, one might presume, as he is playing a deranged loser. Anna Khaja offers functional support as the U. S. Attorney, while defense attorney Larry Poindexter serves up a performance that—be it the fault of writer, director or actor—is subsumed by snarls and smirks. Production values are minimal, with scenic pieces that look disconcertingly like a wall of papier-mâché stones from Stonehenge, left over from some other play.
And at this point in time, do we really need to have a clearly unhinged actor—or clearly unhinged character, at least—pointing guns and rifles in our face, two blocks west of that barricaded building with the golden escalator?
Fatherland opened September 26, 2024, at City Center Stage II and runs through November 10. Tickets and information: nycitycenter.org
