~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wilhelm Reich in Hell

by Robert Anton Wilson
review by Brad Rosenstein in SF Bay Guardian July 14, 1999

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Weird science
Robert Anton Wilson takes on Wilhelm Reich in Hell.

By Brad Rosenstein

THE FASCINATING Dr. Wilhelm
Reich has inspired artists ranging from
William Burroughs to Kate Bush, and
no wonder: few 20th-century figures so
perfectly embody both the
hypersensitive soul and the dedicated
loony. From his attacks on sexual
puritanism and the emotional plagues
of Western civilization to construction
of his "orgone accumulators" and
cloud-busting machines, Reich is the eternal outsider, a winning
combination of persecuted visionary and paranoid crank -- in
short, an artist.

So it's no surprise that Reich should also be a favorite subject of
Robert Anton Wilson, the former Playboy editor turned futurist
prophet, sci-fi cult favorite, and stand-up comic. Wilson's play
Wilhelm Reich in Hell puts this scientific heretic on trial in a
surrealistic circus presided over by a satanic ringmaster (Carlo
Mapa). Appearing for the prosecution are the Marquis de Sade
(Ray Rea) and Leopold von Sacher-Masoch (Eric Baldwin), two
gentlemen who might have been expected to side with the
unconventional Reich (George Frangides). But the archetypal
sadist's and masochist's stays in purgatory have neutralized their
radicalism, and instead they assault Reich with traditional logic
and conventional wisdom, twisted Lewis Carroll-style.

Wilson's trademark humor veers from the occasionally witty to the
downright dopey in his Kafka-meets-Gilbert and Sullivan
courtroom, flooded with bursts of song and wry social
commentary. The play builds steam as Reich mounts his defense,
a lucid and scathing indictment of the mental traps and "character
armor" that is forced on humanity by a world gone mad. Wilson's
deep ambivalence about Reich promises to energize the play,
encouraging us to simultaneously attend to and question Reich's
ideas. But soon Reich's own lunacy takes over, and the play's
tedious second act dissipates in fatuous debates and Pirandellian
archness.

The production is also handicapped by some painfully amateurish
acting; only Diane Shinozaki's winsome Marilyn Monroe displays
convincing chops. In his freshman outing as a director, Jed Low
seems to be constantly struggling to find a rhythm and tone for this
slippery piece. With so many intriguing facets and contradictions
in Reich's life and work, there is certainly a great play to be written
about him -- unfortunately this isn't it. But Theatre Rhubarb, now in
its third season, has shown an admirable willingness to take big
risks with offbeat, challenging material. For all its shortcomings,
this production wins a few points with its playfulness and ambition.

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