Rajiv Joseph’s “Guards at the Taj,” in its west coast premiere at The Geffen Playhouse, is an intriguing, sometimes absurdist, sometimes shocking, and sometimes-gory journey of two men who have been friends since childhood.
Joseph, whose “Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo” was a Pulitzer Prize finalist for drama several years ago, is a master of illuminating the contradictions of the human condition.
He can quite easily be part of that elite Theatre of the Absurd group of playwrights, the most famous of which are Harold Pinter, Eugene Ionesco, and of course, Samuel Beckett, whose “Waiting for Godot” stands as one of the most famous pieces of theatre to come out of that genre. Historically, this theatrical movement began as a reaction to World War II. Its foundation was existential philosophy, which combined theatrical elements to present a point of view that flew in the face of logic. In that same tradition, “Guards at the Taj” illuminates perhaps some of the darkest parts of human behavior, from betrayal to blind obedience.*
Set in the 17th the century in Agra, India, Humayun (Raffi Barsoumian) and Babur (Ramiz Monsef) are two low-level members of the Mughal Imperial Guards whose assignment is to guard the entrance to the newly constructed Taj Mahal. The more serious Humayun is the son of a high-ranking general and tries very hard to obey his vow of silence, and to never look at the newly constructed mansion. This becomes a challenge as Babur, his best friend since childhood, has a much harder time with keeping quiet. He has a child-like curiosity and is easily distracted (think ADD). He bombards his silent friend with observations of the world around him, including wanting to know the species of birds that chirp off in the distance. He wonders about the stars and in his stream-of-consciousness ramblings, dreams about building a flying machine called an “Aeroplot” or creating a “transportable hole.” The two friends actually argue over how you get inside the hole and discuss the merits of these ridiculous inventions in a most serious manner. Babur has an overriding ambition and that is to be a guard in the Imperial Royal Harem where, “I could be around beautiful young girls every day.”
Humayun cautions him that death is the punishment for looking at the girls and assures him that they would never be chosen for that plum assignment anyway.
Standing at attention at the front gate, Humayun also begins to speak, and they discuss the fact that it took 20,000 men 16 years to build this magnificent edifice. Both are sure that the head architect and the workers will be handsomely rewarded for their superior work. That old adage comes to mind, “Curiosity killed the cat,” and in the case of our two young men, eventually they can no longer resist looking at the building and turning around, they sneak a peek.
It’s here that the playwright gives us a double existential whammy. First, instead of a sincere thank you from the king, a fate awaits the architect and his workers that is not quite what they expect. His decree that “nothing as beautiful as the Taj Mahal can ever be built again,” results in a “reward” that must be classified as an unthinkable act of wanton sadism. As their punishment for looking at the forbidden building, the two friends are given the assignment to carry out the king’s monstrous wishes, which they willingly execute because, well, they were told to so. After the deed is done, they actually argue about who should get more credit for the carnage. Initially they justify their actions by saying they were just following orders, a familiar theme we heard at the Nuremberg Trials, which, following World War II, put Nazis on trial for The Holocaust and other war crimes.
Because of how efficiently they carried out the king’s command, the young sentinels are appointed to a new post – Guards of the Imperial Harem. Presently though, despite this coveted promotion, doubts begin to fester in Babur’s mind and he comes to the conclusion that he has killed beauty and feels compelled to seek revenge. His threats do not serve him well and Humayun is fearful of what punishment will befall his conflicted friend. To illustrate their close bond, Joseph wrote a very tender scene where Humayun takes loving care of the overwrought Babur. He removes his stained clothes, gently washes him, and assists him in putting on fresh clothing. Despite his caring, and tenderness, eventually Humayun is placed in an unthinkable position. This is not exactly a “spoiler alert,” but to use the words shocking and gory again would not be overstating the gruesome action that ensues.
Under the commanding direction of Giovanna Sardelli, there is never a lost beat in either the action or the dialogue. She deftly guided her actors, both of whom do a brilliant job with their respective characterizations. This is an occasional edge-of-your seat experience as this is not an easy play. However, in his brilliance as a writer, Joseph has interwoven lots of comedic moments prior to unveiling the heinous acts.
The visual effects are perfect with special kudos to the awesome, multiple set designs by Tom Buderwitz. His vision is beautifully enhanced by Lap Chi Chu’s lighting design, Denitsa Bliznakova’s period costumes, and Vincent Olivieri’s original music and sound. All the artistic elements work together in creating a pitch-perfect, compelling, mind-bending, 90-minute, unforgettable theatrical experience.
*Blind obedience behavior was explored in a recent film called Experimenter.
The true story revolves around Stanley Milgram (Peter Sarsgaard) a Yale University professor who designed a psychology experiment whereby a “teacher” (a stooge) administers shocks to a “student” each time he answers a question incorrectly, with each shock becoming incrementally more powerful. The “teacher” is instructed not stop the experiment no matter how much the “student” pleads, illustrating how people will carry out sadistic instructions when commanded to do so. Sadly, we continue to see man committing unspeakable acts of violence every day under instructions from their “king.”
The Audrey Skirball Theatre
The Geffen Playhouse
10866 Le Conte Ave., Los Angeles, CA 90024
Run: Tuesdays-Fridays: 8 pm
Saturdays: 3 pm & 8 pm
Sunday: 2 pm & 7 pm
Closing: Sunday, Nov. 15, 2015
Tickets $60-82
Reservations: 310.208.5454 or www.geffenplayhouse.com
