"Saint Joan," written by Nobel Prize-winning author George Bernard Shaw and performed at the Wheelock Family Theatre, tells the infamous tale of Joan of Arc, the zealous 17-year-old girl on a God-given mission to see the Dauphin crowned king and to lead France to victory over the English. Few characters in the play are truly likeable, and most fall into a trap of oscillating hypocrisy, where they make statements that serve their present purpose but leave the audience confused as to their true intentions.
The play opens on a scene both empty and ornate. The set is imposing, with straight-backed chairs and high arches, and comforting, with soft browns and warm oranges in the faces of the saints' statues. The imbalance of these images sets up the hypocrisy of both the interactions between characters and the scenes of the play.
The Dauphin, Charles VII (played by Shelley Bolman), is petite and petulant. He excitedly frolics around the stage, teasing the Archbishop of Rheims (James Bodge) that the "Angel" Joan chose to talk to him over the Church. When he talks to Joan, he sulks and complains how everyone in the French government bullies him.
The archbishop represents the corruption of the Catholic Church. Stout and somber, he lets Joan carry on with her fanaticism, telling La Trémoille (Dale Place), the commander of the French army, that "a miracle is an event that creates faith." Even if it is an illusion, as long as everyone is fooled, Joan can inspire the country to follow her, tricking them into believing that they have God on their side. La Trémoille agrees that he could never get his troops to fight if they knew the real reason for battle. Though the story of Joan of Arc is over 500 years old, these scenes illustrate the modern relevance of the situations: the fundamental battle between morality and politics.
The play fails in its portrayal of Saint Joan (Andrea Ross) as a Christ figure. She is depicted as an innocent girl in a long, plain blue dress, with straight brown hair, who miraculously stops the soldiers from swearing. She speaks to Robert de Baudricourt (Cliff Odle), an army captain, with a desperate, compelling hope. Her enthusiasm for "carrying out the Lord's orders" and fighting the English finally convinces him to allow her to fight.
"I wash my hands of it!" he announces, channeling Pontius Pilate, who symbolically washes his hands of Jesus's fate. This trend continues, as Joan's zeal convinces person after person to follow her lead and fight on the side of God.
The audience, however, struggles because of its doubts about her intentions. Joan piously talks about keeping the English out, because the King of Heaven gave everyone their own countries. It is, therefore, not a sin to kill an Englishman on the battlefield as long as the action is in defense of France. Joan's eyes widen and she speaks with a crazed commitment in favor of using larger guns and heavy artillery.
The audience oscillates in their devotion to Joan, torn between her conviction and the relative sensibility of others. The antagonist Bishop Cauchon (Dan Downing Jr.), for example, reasonably reminds the audience that there is only one land, the realm of God.
Seeing Joan scuffle and pace and mope around a church after French victory, sighing that life off the battlefield is dull and making statements such as, "I have crowned Charles; why do they not love me?" weakens the sincerity of her cause, as she seemingly forgets that she works in God's name. To defend her actions, Joan attempts to play the victim card, saying that she has always walked alone in an effort to draw sympathy. Unfortunately, she chooses to convey this by ranting, chastising her executioners for picking over the bloody body of France.
The redemption of "Saint Joan" rests in its modern relevance, particularly regarding the role of women. Joan appears at the end sickened and weak, the only female in a room of men. She is charged with heresy and wearing men's clothes. She chooses to be burned rather than face eternal imprisonment because in the end, the play is about the liberation of France from English rule, of the Dauphin from his cowardice and of Joan from a life of following orders.
After all, as the executioner says after the excommunication, "Her heart would not burn."
