It all comes down to a choice — you can escape abuse by means of intelligence or you can turn into a physical aggressor.
The quandary poised in the World Premiere of “Eclipsed” — the first play of Woolly Mammoth’s 30th season — is no academic exercise. Actress and playwright Danai Gurira was a graduate student when she went to Liberia in 2007, fascinated by some of the female warriors who had made such decisions.
The soldiers in the 14-year civil war were anything but stereotypical — Gurira had seen photos of the women clad in Forever 21-style clothing with AK-47s slung across their backs. Each of the women had a story, and Gurira was anxious to strip away the layers and uncover what had turned them from victims to aggressors.
‘Eclipsed’
Where: Woolly Mammoth Theatre, 641 D St. NW
When: 8 p.m. Wednesday to Saturday, 2 and 7 p.m. Sunday, 8 p.m. Sept. 15; through Sept. 27
Info: $27 to $62; pay-what-you-can tickets available beginning at 6:30 p.m. for Monday and Tuesday shows; 202-393-3939; woollymammoth.net
The stories she tells in “Eclipsed” map the war’s toll on the human spirit and delve into the sisterhoods that develop — and shatter — during brutal conflicts.
The entire play is acted out on one set, which is as simple as the overall story is complex. The set replicates a makeshift hovel complete with broken dresser and rusted metal wall that provides something of a shelter, washtub and other rudimentary items.
The four main women in the story — which either currently or used to inhabit the space — are captive wives of a Liberian officer. Wife No. 1, as played by Uzo Aduba, is responsible for overseeing all meal preparation and household chores plus directing the other wives — and even soldiers — in daily tasks.
Aduba’s depiction of the wife — who is kind to the other women, including Wife No. 3, a very young woman who was impregnated by the officer — seems almost flawless. Whether she’s padding heavily on bare feet while balancing items upon her head, maternally demanding kindness among the wives or exclaiming with joy when she is taught to write her own name, Aduba’s performance never strikes a false note.
The turning point of the story arrives when a very young but educated woman — who is soon raped and made Wife No. 4 — is lured by the rhinestone-decorated jeans, pink nail polish and trendy T-shirts that Wife No. 2 gained after leaving the wives’ sisterhood and becoming a soldier.
What truly sets this play apart is Gurira’s devotion to the women. It would be so easy for a playwright to turn these women into social commentators on any number of topics, especially when a biography of President Clinton is introduced.
Gurira’s laserlike focus on the women and their lives leaves the audience with no choice but to truly absorb these women’s stories.
