The Chosen

See The Chosen at TheatreWorks, Mountain View.

I’m not religious at all, so the idea of going to see a play heavy with the subtleties of Jewish teachings wasn’t appealing.  But past the references to God (which in my atheistic vocabulary just means whatever someone has made up a few thousand – and sometimes not so many – years ago), The Chosen had a lot to say about fatherhood and the passing of knowledge and skill from one generation to the next.  Strangely devoid of any female input, the play (and I assume the novel on which it is based) focuses on the differences between two grown boys, and the relationship with their fathers.  I just remembered that in my family, one would talk to my mother to discuss an issue and possibly escalate it to my father, who was the silent one.  In the play, the chosen one is an unlikely friend through whom the father and son will communicate, and who will act as a catalyst in their relationship.  Finally, each son will be able to confront his father with who he really wants to become.

I also appreciated that what was being passed from one generation to another was the ability to inquire and discuss, a quality that’s often lost in our world of absolutist trends.  If it was at all possible to debate the TV pundits and preachers that pollute the airwaves, they would soon find nothing to say, and the fanatics would calm down.  And I would also welcome the challenges of discussion by finally admitting that the other person is just discussing the subject without trying to hurt me.  That’s always a difficult issue to deal with.