‘Guards at the Taj’ asks hard questions
Exceptionally acted and brilliantly designed, Milwaukee Repertory Theater’s production of Rajiv Joseph’s “Guards at the Taj” plunges its audience into a moral quandary.
Like everyone else in Agra in 1648, lowly imperial guards Humayun (Yousof Sultani) and Babur (Owa’Ais Azeem) await the unveiling of the Taj Mahal, the stunningly beautiful tomb and monument that Emperor Shah Jahan has constructed for his favorite wife, Mumatz Mahal.
But this beauty comes with a horrible price tag. To ensure no future work of human hands will rival it, the emperor orders the two guards to commit horrific mutilations. (For the record, Joseph based his play on a popular myth that historians discredit.)
In an age when dissent means death, what choice do they have? We aren’t shown the acts, but we do see their horrific PTSD. And in a nice, bitter touch, we learn they’re promoted shortly afterward, not so much for their use of swords, but for how well they cleaned up the mess.
Sultani, portraying stolid, career-minded Humayun, and Azeem, as his restless, imaginative friend (who seems to channel invention ideas out of the “Star Trek” universe), are convincing, likable everymen, making their suffering so much more vivid.
Joseph’s play can be as hard to pin down as the birds Humayun loves. Early on, and periodically throughout, it’s a buddy comedy, with sparks flying between the two men. They’re also two guys in an impossible situation like Didi and Gogo or Stoppard’s version of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. But this is no absurdist piece: Countless totalitarian leaders have placed foils like Babur and Humayun in positions like this.
The two guards also make me think of Steinbeck’s George and Lenny, with the more clued-in friend trying to keep his whimsical partner from making a fatal mistake.
While only two men appear on stage, director Brent Hazelton has marshaled an impressive production team on their behalf, with evocative and sometimes downright spooky sound from designer Barry G. Funderburg.
At one point, Sultani and Azeem move, slip and slide safely through a startling volume of red liquid. I’d hate to do the laundry for this show.
Today, at least on this continent, governments don’t order low-level employees to do such monstrous things. But on my way out of the theater, my mind was on those border workers who had to separate immigrant children from their parents.