Postulates that boggle the psyche, but never Bohr

For the scientifically-minded, Michael Frayn's Copenhagen might just be the perfect dramatic production, seamlessly blending physics and art until their boundaries disappear. A fictional account peopled with historical figures, the play weaves theories of quantum mechanics, complementarity, uncertainty, and nuclear fission into the fabric of daily life, creating an engaging and demanding drama that examines the nature of friendship and absolute truth. Both confusing and overwhelming, the production couches humanity in scientific theory, using physical and mathematical postulates to create complex metaphors for human motivation and interaction. Copenhagen takes us on a dark journey into the psyches of men, in which the only grounding factor is the objectivity of the scientific principles on which the characters built their lives.

CAYTE PUSHKAREVA/YH There's nothing rotten in this Denmark.

The play relates the progression of the friendship between Neils Bohr (James DuRuz, TD '03), founder of quantum mechanics, and Werner Heisenberg (Benjamin Woodlock, ES '02), inventor of the famed Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle. Beginning after the deaths of Bohr, Heisenberg, and Bohr's wife Margrethe (Erin Beirnard, PC '03), the action regresses in time to the men's first acquaintance.

Throughout the two-and-a-half hour production, we jump through the years in a dizzying journey that fuses past, present, and future into a single fluid continuum. By synthesizing the fragments of experience that bombard us, we find in Copenhagen the tale of two friends, a Danish and a German scientist, separated by the political upheaval of World War II. We watch as both men struggle with issues of morality, identity, guilt, absolution, and the powers of science to irrevocably alter the human condition.

This play is especially distinctive in its sparse staging, action, and props. Although Copenhagen is not devoid of plot, most of its dramatic movement occurs in the minds of the characters rather than in tangible action. The only real movement is circular, with time converging upon itself until separate events become indistinguishable from one another. Copenhagen resembles popular films like Go and Run Lola Run in its repeated examination of the many possibilities inherent in a single moment. Dialogue that is wonderfully complex, engaging, and realistic carries the production almost single-handedly, making the drama largely a character study.

Because of this, good acting is an essential ingredient in the play. Beirnard, DuRuz, and Woodlock all turn in excellent, if occasionally melodramatic, performances. Beirnard, who plays Margrethe, varies the speed, volume, and pitch of her speech especially well, and maintains the persona of her character even when the focus of the action is on the other two characters. DuRuz's remarkably varied facial expressions add another dimension to the surface value of his words. His trademark pose—chin slightly lifted, brow furrowed, mouth drawn into a hard line—communicates the intensity and egotism of his character. Finally, Woodlock portrays the morally conflicted, searching Heisenberg with sensitivity and emotional clarity.

The play's greatest strength—its ability to draw us into a detailed imaginary world using dialogue alone—also becomes a weakness. Because the drama is dependent upon words, it demands sustained, undivided attention from its audience, which becomes taxing given its length. Many of the conversation between Bohr and Heisenberg also involve detailed discussions of the principles of physics, which get a bit tedious.

Theater

Copenhagen Written by Michael Frayn Directed by Colin Spoelman Fri., Feb. 18, 8 p.m. Sat., Feb. 19, 2 and 8 p.m. Berkeley Multi-purpose Room Free

These same conversations, however, do give the play its occasional comic flavor. When Bohr and Heisenberg are discussing the feasibility of nuclear fission, Bohr ironically remarks, "To separate out one gram of uranium-235 would take 25,000 years. By which time this war will be over." Witty surprises like this statement round out the weighty issues that the play addresses.

The technical attributes of Copenhagen create an impact beyond that provided by the dialogue. It is staged in theater-in-the-round, engendering an immediacy that the play would lack on a traditional stage. The actors make use of the small space by whispering to draw us into intimate personal moments and shouting to build tension during emotional encounters. The sense of immersion in the personal lives of the play's characters, coupled with the proximity of the actors to the audience, gives the production considerable force.

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