Defiance

John Patrick Shanley has stated that his new play, Defiance, is the second in a projected trilogy about hierarchies — the first was the multi-award-winning Doubt. If that’s the case, then the Bronx-born dramatist is on his way to executing an impressive hat trick.

This is not to say that Defiance is perfect. It’s a well-made, naturalistic play, and as such may not please contemporary factions who consider such works to be rapidly fading cries from the Dark Ages. In addition, some elements of this mordantly humorous drama about a North Carolina marine base filled with racial tension occasionally cross the line into melodrama. Further, of the five figures confronting themselves and each other as the plot unfolds, four sometimes seem like polemical mouthpieces. Shanley’s shaping of this modern morality play occasinally sometimes comes across as manipulation.

Moreover, the playwright bandies more than a few symbols about. His protagonist, Lt. Col. Littlefield (Stephen Lang), steps on a nail — with unexpected results. A peanut butter-and-honey-on-pumpernickel sandwich is described as potentially sticky by the base’s new clergyman, Chaplain White (Chris Bauer), who prizes clean hands and a pristine ethical code. And stitched into the dialogue are any number of lines that have the metallic ring of aspiring epigrams.

All of these flaws aside, Defiance offers further confirmation — if any is needed — that Shanley is an important playwright. He’s a craftsman who can sneak moral lessons into his work even as he sets off dramaturgical firecrackers. He brings to life characters to life whose often conflicting motivations are significant and substantive, whose long-held beliefs are shaken. Moreover, here he writes a truly adult story of a complex but solid marriage between Littlefield and his wife, Margaret (Margaret Colin) — a love story that withstands favorable comparison to that of Willie and Linda Loman.

The basic thrust of the play is that Littlefield sees the chance to ease racial tension at Camp Lejune as an opportunity to distinguish his marine officer career. He’s convinced that elevating an African-American officer, Captain Lee King (Chris Chalk), to an executive position is another facet of his fight against intolerance during the lengthening Vietnam War. Unfortunately, not everyone whom he encounters shares his inflexible convictions — including Margaret, the Chaplain, and most notably Captain King, who understandably balks when he’s used as a political pawn. Things come to a head when an enlisted man, Evan Davis (Jeremy Strong), comes to King with some startling information.

As in Doubt, wherein Sister Aloysius presides over her parochial school with an iron-clad will, Shanley is once again scrutinizing a figure of impenetrable certainty. He even begins the play, as he does Doubt, with a speech that states the sizable theme announced in the title. In this case, a gunnery sergeant (played by Trevor Long, who never reappears) addresses the audience on the subject of taking orders without asking why. What Shanley is stressing here is the pitfalls of following orders when following orders is no more than a handy way to abdicate responsibility.

If Shanley’s intentions sound dry as a scholarly tome, the series of crackling encounters that he sets in motion are anything but static. Patrons leaving the theater will be sparring for months over which of the scenes are the meatiest; though no one will argue about the author’s ability to paint each of the characters in colorful shades of gray. Nor is anyone likely to argue Shanley’s decision to put his play in the hands of Doubt director Doug Hughes and his creative team: set designer John Lee Beatty, costume designer Catherine Zuber, lighting designer Pat Collins, and sound and music man David Van Tieghem.

Once again, Hughes is both straightforward and subtle with a script, and once again he gets award-caliber performances from his cast. Lang occasionally overplays Littlefield’s obduracy, but he’s canny about letting the man’s tenderness show as well. Colin, who’s so nuanced at whatever she does that she often remains unfairly under the radar, knows precisely who Margaret is and how much she’s keeping to herself. Chalk and Bauer offer well rounded characterizations, while Strong and Long distinguish themselves in their single scenes.

We must wait to see whether the final Shanley play of the announced trilogy continues the alliteration. Will it be called Debt, Disgust, or maybe Death? At any rate, if it’s on a par with Doubt and Defiance, American dramatic literature will have something grand about which to boast.