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Chimerica Rolls Into and Hits Chiraq Like A Tank

                                      
    
 What is Stonehenge? Who was Jack the Ripper? Does Atlantis exist? Where in the world is Carmen San Diego? Unsolved mysteries have an irresistible way of impelling awe-inspiring drama. This is something Lucy Kirkwood appreciates and executes profoundly as the ardent enigma “Who is ‘Tank Man?’” serves as exhilarating muse for her mystifying play “Chimerica.”  The infamous photo of a solitary gentleman blockading a procession of tanks attempting to exit Tiananmen Square after massacre of demonstrating Beijing citizens in 1989 has come to symbolize revolt and gallantry in the face of oppression. In her Olivier Award-winning work, Kirkwood investigates with as much reporter-like ingenuity and acumen as New York newshound protagonist Joe Schofield the conundrum of this civilian and the symbiotic relationship of the East and West’s greatest superpowers.

TimeLine Theatre’s conceptualization of this engrossing piece in its Chicago premiere moves with Mike Tutaj’s sublime use of screen projections to impel the plot, a true testament to images’ capacity for global transportation. Brian Bembridge’s illustrious lighting (illustrated with the cold, pale radiance of the police interrogation scene) and André Pluess’ booming sound design (exemplified with the imagination of the incessant ringing of Joe’s iPhone and gunfire during the assail on Tiananmen) drive this terrific tale unswervingly. Also catalyzing “Chimerica” is the talented ensemble vitalizing this valiant portrait of cross-cultural coherence. Coburn Goss is magnetic with his straight-shooting interpretation of Joe, the idealistic photojournalist with Sherlockian yen who sets out to discover who that individual in a stand off with China’s national tyranny is. Eleni Pappageorge embodies Tess, Joe’s European-bred leftist career girl love interest, with soul and feminine sensibility. Pappageorge’s smart rendition, like Tess’ description of China, is “the business major with an A-plus average and really great hair, not the drunk frat girl at the party,” only slightly hindered by Eva Breneman’s deficient dialect coaching.

Norman Yap is as unanswerable as Tank Man’s mystery as Zhang Lin, a mutinous Chinese man fearlessly raising awareness of the country’s current smog epidemic being shrouded by the state and Joe’s foil. Ultimately, Dan Lin’s striking turns as Benny and Young Zhang Lin must be credited. As Benny, the ingénue endears as Zhang Lin’s wisecracking, loveably nerdy first generation Chinese-American co-ed nephew. In the scenes where he inhabits the Zhang Lin of youth, he melts one like a popsicle on a sweltering Independence Day with the genuine sweetness of his adept portrayal of a lovestruck, compassionate and morally conscious lad in limbo between adolescence and manhood. As he moves in the flashback vignettes from jocular exchanges and frolicking admist protestors in the middle of Tiananmen with sweetheart Liuli to the rawest interpretation of grief and defiance in the finale, Lin unstitches. For two enduring minutes, the most aesthetic theatrical experience unfolds as he flails anguished in synchronization to projected video footage envisaged by Tutaj, leaving onlookers’ clutching their chests, feeling they assume the position of the unknown emblem of resistance staring down the barrel of a tank’s gun.

Another fascinating aspect of this show is the treatment of the concept of the unsung hero. It is beyond stirring when trepidatious, undocumented flower shop proprietor Pengsi wails that his brother, the unmovable soldier leading the cavalcade of tanks who yielded to the anonymous rebel, was a real forgotten paragon of China’s resistance movement. With juxtaposition (illumed by Brembridge’s nebulous lighting playing expertly between shadows and lumosity) of Joe’s combating to decode Tank Man and Zhang Li’s railing against the Chinese voice and current smog crisis being suffocated by the brutal autocracy, the audience is made to grapple with true unheralded paladins being regular people who achieve remarkability in choosing to stand up for their convictions. Dina Spoerl’s breathtaking lobby display, replete with vibrant pictures like the “Afghan Girl” that captivated “National Geographic” subscribers with her voracious, piercing eyes, supplements the motif of heroism being cloaked in mystique, lying within the uncelebrated and average.

Also branding this play as exceptional is its parallel of themes of contemporary politics and revolution amalgamating the two nations and cultural identities in question (something Emily Guthrie’s prop design, boasting Macs and Silicon Valley staples exemplary of integrated Asian-American enterprise galore, amplifies). This poignant dramatic masterpiece takes what occurred at Tiananmen Square and translates it to the troubles of green politics, authority abuse and police brutality plaguing China and major American metropolises like New York and “Chiraq” today. Shown with Zhang Li’s activism against the oppressive regime of his ironically named People’s Republic and Tess’ advocacy in the board room of the smog pandemic, the story coalesces old and new westernized world in its seamless connection of political upheaval both sides of the Pacific. Withal, concentration on 2008’s presidential election and Asian-American inclination towards democratic candidates like Hilary Clinton being a prime example, the production displays through such concepts of modern global politics uniting America and China the notion of the two countries’ collocation as an organism of heterogeneous ethnic tissues.

Overall, “Chimerica” “is neither East nor West,” it is conclusively and captivatingly both. In this case, this is the utter antipode of a “really bad insult” as Benny classifies this turn of phrase. Timeline depicts this story with due diplomatic reverence to the everyday, yet extraordinary anonymous heroes all walks of life potentially are and every ounce of the dualism, mysticism and economy of the Niall Ferguson-coined epithet to which the play owes its title. Permeated by penumbra of riddle and ambiguity maybe never rectifiable, this representation of this work packs a world-class pugilist-like punch in its exploration of international relations and coexistence of two dominant, interwoven cultural fabrics. For nearly three hours, this show rivets and leaves one breathless as if asphyxiating on China and intercontinental politics and major industry’s contaminated atmosphere. “Chimerica” hits hard with its intrigue and piquancy, as if that principal tank had decided to push forward. It levels in the absolute best sense and leaves one meditating deeply on the politics, autonomy and heroism engulfing one’s world, supplying the most compelling mystery to solve. 

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