education.jpg (1639 bytes)






QED
Ensemble Theatre, Sydney; Ensemble Theatre Company
Friday, May 16, 2008. Opening Night Performance. Review by MAZ DIXON.

Until June 28. Bookings: (02) 9929 0644.

Henry SzepsRichard Feynman, as he is presented in QED, seemed like such a strange amalgam of different passions that I felt compelled to do a bit of research to see how much was true. As far as 5 minutes worth of Googling tells me, he was every bit as remarkable as playwright Peter Parnell makes him out to be.

Feynman was a renowned physicist famous for his work on QED (the theory of Quantum Electrodynamics). He helped develop the atomic bomb, and played an integral role in investigating the destruction of the Space Shuttle Challenger. A lecturer at Caltech, he developed a way of portraying complex problems pictorially. In his spare time he picked locks, dabbled in a bit of life drawing, worked on Mayan hieroglyphs, played the bongos and campaigned to be allowed to visit the Soviet-controlled land of Tuva – just out of curiosity. And he won the Nobel Prize.

Geez.

You’d think it would be unlikely that you could successfully cram all this into a single Saturday afternoon and produce an entertaining piece of theatre, but Parnell’s script is clever, cohesive and entertaining.

Ensconced in his office throughout the play, Feynman lectures the audience on his work, tells entertaining anecdotes and shares details of his often-tragic personal life. This monologue is punctuated by frequent phone calls (which he apologises to the audience for), and a visit from a saucy first-year student.

I loved Brian Nickless’ set design. The distinctive honey-coloured timber furniture and walls scream Sober Academia. Framing this is an immense blackboard covered in scrawl, photos and a bit of Varga Girl cheesecake. It is a neat illustration of Feynman’s character.

It’s hard to imagine anyone but Henry Szeps playing Feynman. Under Andrew Doyle’s direction he is absolutely superb. He portrays an avuncular figure, fiercely intelligent, passionate about solving problems and sharing his wonder at how the world works. So effectively does he engage the audience that I felt I was having complex theories of physics explained to me personally (and actually understanding), or that I was being confided to. Yet for all the connection he has with the audience, there’s also the sense that he is most comfortable relating to the world as a dissector or performer.

Ivy Mak, as the very persistent Miriam Field, serves as a physical link to the outside world. Mak’s sassiness covers an uncertainness and vulnerability that makes her a good opposite for the exuberant Szeps.

Hovering on the periphery in act one, Miriam suddenly bursts on the scene in the late stages of the play as the teal-clad embodiment of temptation. This was momentarily troubling. Throughout the play Parnell seems to flirt with the unappealing idea that Feynman could only relate to women, his “weakness”, through a toned-down Madonna/whore paradigm. Yet ultimately his interactions with Miriam show that he does take her seriously as a student, challenging her to have the courage to pursue knowledge and answers.

QED
effectively conveys the ups and downs of Feynman’s extraordinary life, but also his appetite for answers and the sense of amazement that drove him. It’s hard not to get caught up in it.