Borderless – A Flailing Veteran

We watch the projection of a soldier, the actor/author, stand, march, fade – repeat.  Music – there’s reference to Enya – is evocative. Sounds of a heartbeat accompany.

2,402 United States military deaths occurred in the War in Afghanistan (2001–2021). 20,713 American service members were wounded in action. Since Sept. 2001 over 30,000 veterans have died by suicide — four times more than the number of U.S. military personnel who died in combat in Iraq and Afghanistan. This is a story about PTSD, but also one of fraternal bonding with both a brother and members of a battalion. Apparently 45 percent of military men feel more loyal to their fellows in arms than their families. The protagonist grapples with both allegiances.

Powerful connection between soldiers is something civilians can have difficulty grasping. These evolve through shared deprivation, stress, loneliness, and proximity to death. The University of Oxford calls it “identity fusion” – a visceral sense of oneness with the group. “…willingness to offer the ultimate self-sacrifice for genetic strangers has puzzled scientists since Darwin.” (Harvey Whitehouse – Institute of Cognitive and Evolutionary Anthropology.) Servicemen live in a heightened state that many eventually need to function. Adjusting to civilian life can be arduous or impossible not only for those with night terrors but for loved ones who feel helpless and often justifiably frightened.

Blake (Peter-William Jamieson), a veteran, faces a mounted cellphone, making a video. He rises to address audience, then, narrating, immerses himself.

The protagonist’s father married an Afghan woman with a son his age, bringing them both home to Newport, Oregon. Blake and Hussan were seven. His stepmother Far was strong, warm and unusually well educated (an anomaly among Afghan women). “Allah gives his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers,” he quotes in her native tongue. Hussan was preternaturally calm in the face of bigotry and bullying. Only screaming nightmares spoke of experience. The boys bonded. Blake learned Afghan Dari well enough to share secrets.

“He always saw the good in people,” he says of Hussan. “Not me, I believe people are animals…driven by greed, love, lust and revenge.” Vitriol is palpable. When a school bully repeatedly went after his brother, Blake’s revenge took the form of hotheaded brutality which seemed to come out of nowhere from a boy with middle class security and happily married parents. One wonders how many already angry, violent young men sign up for the military (and police).

Hussan resolved to go back to Afghanistan and “help” before he was a teenager. After high school, against parental wishes, the boys decide to join together – the Afghan out of patriotism, the American for travel, money and camaraderie. Here the play takes off.

Blake describes what life is like: duties (including building a school); dangers; local hostility instead of expected gratitude; training mostly inept, stoned farmers for action; casualties; friendship with a local educator, Amooz and his family. Hussan tenuously begins a relationship. The vivid story ends in a tragedy for which Blake takes blame. Roiled retribution erupts when opportunity arises. “The adrenaline can’t be switched off.” It’s not enough.

Author Peter-William Jamieson has created his plot based on an amalgam of interviews. Except for a few awkward flashbacks (well penned, ill sequenced), it’s cohesive and well drawn. Lesser details, such as a parenthesis about competing officers and the behavior of Blake’s parents, are adept. Several later surprises are set up with skill and veracity. Research is illuminating.

As an actor, Jamieson takes some beats to hit his stride, perhaps a directorial issue. Upon doing so, he grows increasingly magnetic. Emotions seem to accrue as if he’s rolling down a hill inexorably picking them up on the way. Flares lead to explosions. He is believable.

Director Christie Koppe offers only unmotivated changes in physical position until Blake takes action, unnecessarily putting off engagement. Relationship to the recording device/cellphone is too vague at the start. We don’t need to know why it’s there, but do need to observe focus from which the protagonist pulls away. Agonized violence and haunting pain are well depicted. Pacing is excellent.

Projections range from redolent to video game appearance, the latter too often jarringly false. Our imaginations along with good lighting and sound would be more successful. (Michael Yore – audio visual designer.) Lighting design by Rosie Dean is a bit overactive. Sound design from music to shocking explosions is terrific. (Hal Rees) A minimal set by  Daniel Ampuro works well to conjure fragments of environments; the detritus of Blake’s feelings.

Borderless is an ambitious, intriguing, affecting piece that needs some editing.

Photos by Rosie Dean

Borderless
Written and Performed by Peter-William Jamieson
Director/Dramaturge Christie Koppe
Through August 20, 2023

Theatrelab 
357 W 36th Street 3rd floor