As at Guantanamo and Abu Ghraib, the unanswerable question is: Does violent interrogation extract valuable information from terrorists or does it turn prisoners into terrorists?
The issue is explored in Yussef El Guindi’s Back of the Throat, the dramatic case of an Arab-American writer wannabe named Khaled, whose apartment is forceably entered by a pair of thugs who claim to be government agents. They proceed to interrogate Khaled, abusing him both psychologically and physically, seeking a confession for an unspecified crime shortly after the 9/11 attacks.
The 90-minute, intermissionless play receives its South Florida premiere from Outré Theatre Co., which effectively mines the dark recesses of the Kafkaesque nightmare into which Khaled finds himself plunged.
El Guindi and director Skye Whitcomb place the audience squarely inside that apartment with Khaled, asking us to consider how we would cope with such treatment. But no sooner have we begun siding with Khaled that it becomes likely he is not the innocent victim he originally appeared to be.
As Khaled keeps emphasizing, he is an American citizen and aware of his legal rights, not that that much matters in the era of the ironically named Patriot Act. Everything in his apartment is pawed over for incriminating evidence — his many books on political subjects, the skin magazines on his desk and, of course, the contents of his laptop computer. And what would government agents find if they barged into your home?
Rayner G. Garranchan quickly earns our empathy as Khaled, beginning with an effort of cautious cooperation with the thugs. From that unproductive start, he tries evasive resistance steeped in futile logic, and eventually an indignant rage which make have been the intended goal of the intruders all along. Garranchan maneuvers through these mood shifts with skill, registering his increasing panic every step of the way.
Craggy, soft-spoken Jim Gibbons underplays his hand chillingly as agent Bartlett, injecting a Pinteresque air of menace to the proceedings. Even more enigmatic is Tim Gore as his sidekick Carl, who says little but often seems on the brink of a violent outburst.
Back of the Throat — the title refers to pronunciation in the Arabic language — is most effective in the pressure cooker of Khaled’s interrogation. But in the less taut final third of the play, El Guindi takes us outside the apartment, at least in Khaled’s imagination, to meet three women in his life and a known Muslim terrorist. Faiza Cherie is not very successful at delineating the trio of characters, though she does add a few humorous moments as a patriotic stripper.
The three-year-old Outré leaves Boca Raton for a permanent residency in Broward County after this production. Its output so far would have to be deemed uneven, but the company is at its best with provocative new works like Back of the Throat.
BACK OF THE THROAT, Outré Theatre Co. at Sol Children’s Theatre, 3333 N. Federal Highway, Boca Raton. Through Nov. 9. Tickets: $30. Call: (954) 462-0222.