'Louis Slotin Sonata': A Scientist's Tragic Hubris Attains Critical Mass Onstage

THEATER REVIEW
By BRUCE WEBER

 

On May 21, 1946, Louis Slotin, a physicist working on the bomb
development in a secret laboratory near Los Alamos, N.M., was
demonstrating a procedure known as a crit test. The test was meant
to verify that the plutonium core of an atomic bomb had the right
size and heft — the critical mass — to sustain the chain reaction
among atomic particles that would cause an explosion. Performing
the test was risky; Richard Feynman, the Nobel Prize-winning
physicist, referred to it as "tickling the dragon's tail."

 But Slotin (pronounced SLOE-tin) had done it so many times, often
pushing the limits of safety to attain better data. This time,
however, his hand slipped at a crucial moment, the core "went
critical," and Slotin was zapped with a dose of radiation that
killed him after nine days of increasing agony. The other men in
the room were also exposed, but they survived, largely because
Slotin absorbed most of the radiation. Some thought him a hero.

 This is the story that inspired "Louis Slotin Sonata," a play by
Paul Mullin at the Ensemble Studio Theater, and as a historical
episode suitable for dramatizing, you can't do much better. The
lead production of First Light, the theater's laudable annual
festival of science-themed plays, it has a singular and terrible
event that is grotesquely compelling in its own right but has
natural resonance beyond itself. And it has a sympathetic
protagonist of intellect, wit and fatal hubris. The play is at its
best when it is telling its central story: a good man doomed by his
own hand, the tormenting experience of his final days and its
emotional repercussions among those around him.

 Sticking close to historical fact and incorporating medical
reports and other documents into his text, Mr. Mullin has fashioned
a crafty narrative propelled by the secondary characters: other
scientists, doctors, a nurse and Slotin's father. They pass the
story line around like instrumentalists sharing an orchestral
theme, and as directed by David P. Moore, the pace is vivace.
(Musical metaphor notwithstanding, the claim of the title and the
playwright — that the play's structure is based on classical sonata
form — is irrelevant and pretentious.) 

 Bill Salyers plays Slotin with an insightful sense that in a
desperate situation a scientist's instinct is to reason
desperately. And though he overstates the character's glibness, Mr.
Salyers makes Slotin's plight irresistibly gripping as he waits for
the end never knowing what's going to be visited on him next. Two
other performances are worth singling out: Allyn Burrows as
Slotin's colleague and friend Philip Morrison and Joel Rooks as
Israel Slotin, an observant Jew who, in the play's most wrenching
scene, is asked by Morrison to authorize an autopsy on his son, a
practice in violation of Jewish law.

 Unfortunately Mr. Mullin has grander ambitions for his play than
the mere telling of an important story. Early on he introduces the
"big" philosophical issues that generally accompany the literature
of quantum physics and nuclear holocaust. But as with the title,
there's something show-offy and distracting about it.

 Several historical figures make appearances to animate Slotin's
ruminations: "God does not play dice with the universe," Albert
Einstein says; "I am become death, shatterer of worlds," Robert
Oppenheimer says, quoting the Bhagavad Gita as he did after the
first atomic explosion. And God himself shows up, dressed in a
period pinstripe suit and a fedora, the image of Harry S. Truman.

 More bravely and originally, Mr. Mullin has also contrived to
personify the cruel Nazi doctor Josef Mengele. The purpose is to
compare Mengele's experiments to the Los Alamos scientists'
frenzied work on a weapon of mass destruction. As Mengele himself
declares here, "What took us years to do in stinking, filth- filled
camps can now, they say, be done in milliseconds from the comfort
of an airplane cockpit." 

 This tilts the show toward a condemnation of nuclear weapons
research. But the problem is that Mr. Mullin's argument — that if
God doesn't gamble with the universe, man lamentably does — is
rendered thinly here. It feels motivated more by theatricality than
drama, especially when Mengele (Mr. Salyers) leads the show's
weirdest sequence, a parody of a vaudeville chorus line, with
scientists singing doggerel about thermodynamics. 

 Like a lot of the elements in the play, the scene is ornamental
and distracting, presented by the playwright not because he should
but because he can. In stage terms, that's playing dice with the
universe.

 LOUIS SLOTIN SONATA 
 By Paul Mullin; directed by David P. Moore; sets by Rachel Hauck;
lighting by Greg MacPherson; costumes by Amela Baksic; sound by Rob
Gould; stage manger, James W. Carringer; assistant stage
manager/design assistant, Pippa Allen; associate producer, Sarah
Elkashef; props and wardrobe, Petol Weekes; choreographer, Kathryn
Gayner; assistant director, Melanie S. Armer; production manager,
Timothy L. Gallagher; technical director, Carlo Adinolfi. Presented
by the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation and the Ensemble Studio Theater,
Curt Dempster, artistic director; Jamie Richards, executive
producer; Eliza Beckwith, managing director; Chris Smith, program
director, E.S.T./Sloan Project; J. Holtham, associate program
director, E.S.T./Sloan Project. At 549 West 52nd Street, second
floor, Clinton. 
 WITH: Bill Salyers, Ezra Knight, Bill Cwikowski, Joel Rooks, Allyn
Burrows, Matthew Lawler, Richmond Hoxie and Amy Love.

Copyright 2001 The New York Times Company