Intense ‘Justice’ effectively shows historical event
With echoes of “The Laramie Project,” the taut and enraging courtroom drama “Execution of Justice” explores the trial of Dan White, who received a sentence of only a few years for assassinating San Francisco Mayor George Moscone and city supervisor Harvey Milk in 1978.
Emily Mann’s two-act play by the Ohio State University Theatre makes use of court transcripts and interviews with some of the major players as well as city residents. The story follows the trial from beginning to end while weaving in scenes from before it took place and recollections afterward. While the outcome is never in doubt, numerous surprising details and perspectives keep it fresh.
Under Tom Dugdale’s direction, the production makes striking use of space and employs video to unnerving effect.
For much of the play, under Kelsey Gallagher’s powerful lighting scheme, the players are alternately dramatically lit or overshadowed by a large, relatively empty stage.
While sympathies are decidedly with the prosecution, the characters are allowed to have their own points of view.
White (Nathan Minns), the central character, doesn’t dominate the proceedings, but he is placed almost out of view on the side of the stage as each character paints a picture of him. He emerges with a vengeance in a recorded confessional scene, which provides the basis for much of the later debate.
Gabe Simms and McKenna Nicole Willis are well-matched as prosecuting attorney • Ohio State University Theatre will present “Execution of Justice” at 7:30 p.m. Saturday, 3 p.m. Sunday, and 7:30 p.m. Tuesday through Friday at Drake Center’s Thurber Theatre, 1849 Cannon Drive. Tickets cost $20, or $18 for senior citizens, faculty, staff, and Alumni Association members; $15 for students and children. Call 614-292-2295 or visit theatre.osu.edu.
Norman and defense attorney Schmidt, with Norman’s understandable irritation at the case’s progress sometimes undermining his effectiveness and Schmidt’s canny ability to craft an emotional appeal supporting hers.
A 19-actor ensemble precisely crafts dozens of roles clearly enough that it’s never confusing to know which character is speaking.
The show descends into parody only occasionally, such as in a scene when three psychiatrists spout their theories while one continually blows her nose.
During the first act, Cassandra Lentz’s stark, three-level set places each character into a separate box to emphasize the disconnect between ways of seeing.
Real-time video of the action — zooming in on the mouth of a performer or out to create a sense of distance — lags slightly behind performers’ moves, which builds anxiety for viewers.
The production is an effective re-creation and emotionally heightened version of a historical moment that, in its emphasis on class and partisan conflict, reverberates with our own.