Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo

Broadway is haunted by ghosts. And not the friendly types, like Casper, or mischievous poltergeists that break a few trinkets. These ghosts are tortured victims of the war in Iraq, wandering the Earth, questioning why they died and why they are still here.The ghosts have inhabited the stage of the Richard Rogers Theater, where Rajiv Joseph’s excellent new play Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo is in performances. A Pulitzer Prize finalist last year, this show bravely explores the consequences of the American invasion of Iraq, focusing on the lives of two soldiers, one translator and a tiger.Directed by Moises Kaufman and starring Robin Williams in his dramatic Broadway debut, Bengal Tiger is an abstract and, at times, slightly confusing play. But the quality of the acting and the beauty of this production transcend any frustration that might be inspired by the script. Instead, the lingering feelings will be of shock and awe.The play opens with two soldiers guarding the cage of the titular tiger. The juvenile Kev (Brad Fleischer, excellent) and the more practical and grounded Tom (Glenn Davis) are swapping stories of their experiences in the war. Tom brags about having swiped a gold handgun and toilet seat from the Hussein palace when he invaded it and helped to kill Saddam’s two sons. Kev has a much more immature view of the war, seeing it only as an opportunity to prove his own bravado. The Tiger paces the cage behind them, pontificating on his own experiences of the invasion and frequently mentioning his hunger. When Tom offers him a treat, the Tiger bites his hand off and is promptly shot by Kev, demonstrating the first of many references to how war turns people into animals. “I get so stupid when I get hungry,” the Tiger groans moments later in self-reproach.Although the Tiger dies in the first scene, he remains in the show, walking the Earth as a ghost and commenting on what is happening around him. His thoughts, shared with the audience in several monologues, contemplate the meaning of life and death, as well as the possibility of afterlife. If there is a God, he asks, why is he letting this war happen?“It’s alarming, this life after death,” he confides. “The fact is, tigers are atheists. All of us. Unabashed. Heaven and hell? Those are just metaphorical constructs that represent ‘hungry’ and ‘not hungry.’ Which is to say, why am I still kicking around?”The consequences of war and the changes it can inspire in people continue to be explored throughout the show in poignant and resonating ways. Kev suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder with disastrous results and Tom’s response to losing his hand only makes him colder and more calculating, determined to get what he thinks he deserves from the war.The men are joined by the translator Musa (Arian Moayed) who is haunted by the ghost of Uday Hussein (Hrach Titizian, in a vivid and malicious performance). Musa has experienced tragedies of his own in the war and is tormented by guilt and regret as well as conflict over working for the Americans. The gold handgun that Tom had stolen from the palace becomes an instigator for even more violence, as well as symbolizing the greed and desperation resulting from the war.While the topic is certainly a heavy one, and it may cause some audience members to lapse into sadness, the show also contains moments of levity. (An especially funny scene involves Musa thoughtfully attempting to understand the American’s colloquial use of the word “bitch.” Kev’s explanation of it proves to be more confusing than helpful.)As the Tiger, Williams gives a performance of intense integrity and sober contemplation, never lapsing into his trademark comedic bluster. There is no trace of the famous lighthearted comedian onstage. With wild unkempt hair and thick whiskers, treading lightly across the stage, his transformation into the Tiger is truly remarkable. As Kev, Fleischer is nothing short of devastating; he renders the soldier’s shock and suffering as well as his child-like confusion in a clear and pointed performance. Davis is equally moving as Tom, depicting the animal instincts brought out by the war. Moayed’s Musa is perhaps the most poignant of all the characters. Watching the complete transformation he undergoes is truly disturbing, and the knowledge that he is just one of so many affected by the war is even more so.Beautifully staged, with elegant sets designed by Derek McLane and somber lighting by David Lander, Bengal Tiger is filled with references to current events (everyday headlines of the war), literature (Blake’s poem, “Tiger, Tiger, burning bright”), and even the Bible (many scenes take place in a garden). Its contemplation of morality and right and wrong, as well as human and animal instincts, will inspire thought and conversation long after the show ends. The top-notch acting by this stunning ensemble elevates the show’s impact to an even higher level.“I’m f***ing hungry,” the Tiger says shortly before the curtain falls. So is Broadway – for more shows as inspired and effective as this one.