November 9, 2017

Supposed to be at a radio station in a few hours to talk about the play. So I have a chunk of morning darkness to work on another play, and on my window list are three plays I’m trying to complete or resurrect simultaneously. One could be done today, one I started ten years ago, maybe, and never thought of the simple thing it needed to bring it out of the fog. Resent the moments taken away from it. I want to finish it and fire it off to Q, who of all the people in the world through these last–what?–twenty years of effort is the only one who really bothered to learn my plays, to be hungry for them, to corner me in my office to talk about them, to think that they amount to what I think they do. I revealed that I had never even tried to publish one. He said, “Look, I’m no expert, but you have 30 plays, and I have seen the quality, and that makes you the outstanding dramatic talent of our time. I think you could publish something.” I don’t say what I’m thinking, which is that my being the great dramatic talent of our time has, so far, been almost completely irrelevant to the progress of my career. I have not submitted anything for publication because, though I am used to rejection in every other area, I don’t think I could endure “No” to one of my plays. One gets used to these things, of course, or one says one does, slinking home to chew one’s heart in the darkness. I’ve never met anyone with exactly Q’s brand of energy. His ambitions seem are conspicuously lower– or other–than his abundant talents. On stage is a different creature from the others, aware, present, inventive long after some of them have gone onto autopilot. His thought is swift and does not always reveal its path from one point to another. He is the liveliest of the six or seven young men who come to my office regularly to open their hearts. Katherine calls them my fan club. I call them blessing.

Jim Cavener writes in the Citizen-Times:

'Uranium 235' recalls Truman and The Bomb at Magnetic
Jim Cavener Published 2:40 a.m. ET Nov. 8, 2017

Asheville Renaissance man David Brendan Hopes has another feather for his highly decorated cap. In addition to being a poet, actor, novelist, humanities and literature professor, musician, gallery owner, Celtic connoisseur and bon vivant, Hopes is an often-published playwright. His newest work has just hit the boards in its premiere production by the Magnetic Theatre, in a production that is director Andrew Gall's first as the company's artistic director.

Hopes has not been known to shy away from controversial themes or touchy issues in past undertakings. Nor with the current "Uranium 235," which is based on one of the most debated events of the past century: Racing against Nazi efforts to utilize atomic energy for destructive purposes during World War II, the Roosevelt administration launched the Manhattan Project — which Vice President Harry Truman was told nothing about. So when he inherited the presidency, he harbored great resentment.

Why was he not told in advance? Should he authorize dropping the bombs on Japan? This is the crux of the story in "Uranium 235." And for a first production, the play raises the right questions. Further work on the script could bring forth a quite rewarding dramatic experience.

A great deal of research went into the story line and the sound and visual cues of the era. A thoughtful dramatic conceit is the introduction of a fictional muse for Truman's reflection on the struggle of whether to use The Bomb. Clio is given by Mary Katherine O'Donnell, dressed in the style of the era and with vocalizing that is spot-on in effect. Her rendition of the 1939 British tune,  "We'll Meet Again," popularized by English songstress Vera Lynn, is one of several nostalgic backgrounds.

Some of the most touching and effective scenes in this drama involve a young Japanese girl, most impressively portrayed by Brevard College senior Lily Bartleson. Her nuanced sanity is a welcome change from all the current and former nationalistic bull-picky. Another pleasant portrayal is that of Dan Clancy as physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer, who needs do little more than wear the cocked hat and hold the ever-present cigarette. (Oppenheimer later died of throat cancer.)

The noble but bewildered President Truman is interpreted by Mike Yow. Truman's struggle is touching and authentic. A fairly stiff General Groves is given by Jim Weyhenmeyer, and a bouncy and boyish Jimmy is presented by Kiran Bursenos.

A novel innovation in the presentation is a combination of masked actors and puppeteering to portray a Japanese-American family in an internment camp during that terrible mid-1940s period. The masks are photo reproductions of children of an actual family— sad reminders of a clearly unconstitutional confinement of American citizens, out of irrational fear and blind prejudice.  A disclaimer printed in the program explains the racist and ethnocentric prejudices of the era.

Contact Jim Cavener at jimcavener@aya.yale.edu.

One is terrified of the first review. The terror is gone.

Excellent Review also by Tony Kiss in the Mountain Xpress--and with far fewer errors in fact:

In the powerful premiere of Uranium235, onstage through Saturday, Nov. 18, at The Magnetic Theatre, President Harry S. Truman wrestles with perhaps the most horrific decision of the 20th century — whether or not to drop the atomic bomb on Japan. If the device works, it might bring an immediate end to World War II, saving the lives of ground troops who would otherwise be forced into a bloody land invasion. But the untested bomb would also kill many Japanese civilians and sentence others to radiation poisoning. The bomb might even set the atmosphere ablaze and destroy the world.

Asheville-based playwright David Brendan Hopes, veteran director Andrew Gall and a capable cast handle this intense subject matter with skill, weaving a mix of history, drama, fantasy and even song and dance.

Uranium235 contains certain slang terms for the Japanese and the Germans that are considered offensive today. Those slurs fit the era (1945), but some in the audience may squirm when hearing them. A disclaimer is flashed on screen before the show, but it might have been useful to have this explanation delivered by a speaker before the performance.

Uranium235 mostly takes place in the president’s office. Mike Yow gives a convincing turn as Truman. A compelling Mary Katherine O’Donnell is his mysterious muse Clio, an unconventional character who counsels the president. The play has a surreal feel, largely thanks to O’Donnell’s strong performance. (She also shares her notable singing voice.)

Truman is fresh in office after the death of Franklin D. Roosevelt. He is overwhelmed and angry about only just being informed of the atomic weapon. Adding to his frustration, others have long known of its development.

Jim Weyhenmeyer plays Gen. Groves, who attempts to explain why the new president was not in on the big secret. Dan Clancy delivers as the cocky physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer, who helped build the bomb, but admits he doesn’t know if it will work.

A smaller story involves Jimmy (Kiran Bursenos), a young American student, who befriends Kiko (Lily Bartleson) a Japanese girl. Kiko dreams of her ancestral homeland, which is soon to be forever changed.

This heavy material is appropriately lightened by an ensemble of singer-dancers (Bartleson, Bursenos, Bia Holmes, Eugene Jones, Samuel Quinn Morris and Hannah Williams-Beaver), showcasing wartime songs. They sometimes enter from the back of the theater or even come offstage and into the audience.

Authentic-looking dress for all the players adds icing to the cake. A cheer is deserved for costume designer Kayren McKnight.

LATER: Interviewed on Asheville FM this AM. Had a good time. The host--and therefore the interview–was very political. I had a good time, and hope I didn’t come off sounding, to whomever might have been listening, like an idiot.