A Review by Barbara Mehlman and Geri Manus.
In his book on the medieval mind, "A World Lit Only By Fire," William Manchester sets down his definition of who is really a hero. He says that "the hero acts alone, without encouragement, relying solely on conviction and his own inner resources. Shame does not discourage him; neither does obloquy. Indifferent to approval, reputation, wealth, or love, he cherishes only his personal sense of honor, which he permits no one else to judge."
Winston Churchill was a man Manchester considered a hero, and he wrote about him in his compelling two-volume biography. Would that he had also written about an unsung hero, Irena Gut Opdyke. Fortunately for us, playwright Dan Gordon has cleaved to Irena's courageous story and it is now being told on the Broadway stage in "Irena's Vow," starring the brilliant actor, Tovah Feldshuh, who starred in "Golda's Balcony" four years ago.
At a time when the world was turned upside-down and Jews were considered a social disease by the Nazis bent on their extermination, one woman listened to her conscience and harbored 13 Jews, saving their lives and those of the generations to come.
Knowing and accepting the dangers she was incurring, she hid these desperate men and women in the cellar of the most officious Nazi in Poland, Major Rugemer, who had given strict orders to annihilate any Jews in the vicinity.
The process of extermination was fairly simple, as explained by the sadistic Sturmbannfuhrer Rokita to the head of the factory where Irena worked. First you have the Jews wear a yellow star to identify themselves. Then you ban the stars and make them carry papers. Then you ban the papers, and keep changing the rules so they are less resistant to following orders. Finally you load them into carts and take them to the camps.
And we all know the rest of the story.
But along the way some were more resilient than others, and Christians like Irena rose to the occasion, and though in great peril, they saved those they could. We have all learned about the heroism of Oskar Schindler and Miep Gies; now we get to learn about Irena, a story that waited too long to be told.
Irena used all her resourcefulness and survival skills to outwit the Nazi soldiers when they came to search the premises. At the point of discovery, she became the Major’s "whore" in exchange for the safety of her charges, subjugating her independence, self-respect, and place in the community for the greater cause of life. When one of the women became pregnant, she helped keep the newborn survive in the dank and moldy cellar where they lived.
The play is written as a flashback, so the gut-wrenching torment of wondering if the 13 make it out alive is graciously taken out of the equation, but that makes the drama no less powerful. The diminutive Feldshuh is larger-than-life in this commanding role, and she takes over the stage just as she did when she played Golda Meir. Moving effortlessly from 70-year-old lecturer to young girl working as a housekeeper in the Major’s mansion, Feldshuh tells the story as if she were giving testimony, and wrings every emotion out of us.
Kevin Judge’s multi-layered platform set creates the illusion of the dungeon atmosphere and the darkness of the life that went on above it. Michael Parva’s direction is a masterpiece of timing and movement as the Nazis stand upon the very lives that tremble beneath their feet.
Begun as a lecture to the last generation that will know survivors, and ending as a cautionary tale to never let this happen again, we’re chagrined only to realize that genocide still happens over and over again in places further removed from us than Germany and Poland, but no less unfortunate.
This week, remembrances of Kristallnacht, the Night of the Broken Glass in which 30,000 Jews were rounded up and taken to concentration camps, were conducted in several countries around the world. Jews say “Never again,” but we must all say it. For those who still doubt, and those who still remember, see “Irena’s Vow”
Barbara Mehlman & Geri Manus
