“Prayer for a French Republic,” or a Cyclical Story of Jewish Self-Preservation
An underrated place to cry in Manhattan is in the middle of a mezzanine.
It’s impossible to know how bad it’ll get before you’re in the worst of it. In “Prayer for a French Republic,” a play that’s finishing up its run at Manhattan Theatre Club, that’s the problem the Benhamou family faces in 2016 Paris, the same problem their ancestors faced in the 1940s.
In 2016 Paris, the son of the Benhamou family, Daniel (Aria Shahghasemi), has just been assaulted for wearing a kippah. We learn this is the second time this has happened since he started wearing one in public; his mother, Marcelle (Betsy Aidem), begs him to wear a baseball cap for his safety. Daniel says his faith is worth the risk.
In the incredibly well-paced, eerily familiar arguments, we almost forget the root of the issue they’re fighting about. Isn’t this just another family feud? Parents are worried for their children’s safety. The kids, acting bold and proud, refuse to concede. Marcelle uses the age-old “my house, my rules” argument; Elodie (Francis Benhamou), Daniel’s older sister, slams a door in defiance.
Yet danger is lurking, and this isn’t just family drama. Marcelle’s husband, Charles (Nael Nacer), is the first to suggest that maybe there’s something more to be done. He’s fled home before because it was unsafe for Jews, from Algeria, and poses the idea of his family now moving to Israel. He worries it’s not safe in Paris anymore.
At first, Marcelle is bewildered. Betsy Aidem shines here, pre-mourning of the life she’s made in France. We believe it is her home, even if it’s one that is seemingly forcing her out. Her warming to the idea of picking up her family and moving them to Israel slowly unravels — not just through more fear about her son, but through her love for Charles. Who is she not to trust the man she loves, especially a man who has gone through this before? Wouldn’t he know when it was time to go?
This debate about whether to flee is juxtaposed with the story of Marcelle’s father in the 1940s. We see Irma (Nancy Robinette) and Adolphe (Daniel Oreskes), her great-grandparents, who have stayed safe in their Paris apartment but have children who have not been afforded the same fate. Unlike the modern-day Benhamou home, where the family is colored with characterization and personal details, the 1940s family feels like stand-ins, paper representations of history. There’s an attempt to make them more than two-dimensional through the family business — selling pianos — when Marcelle’s father, Pierre (Ethan Haberfield), a child at the time, returns home from a concentration camp with his father, Lucien (Ari Brand). Yet the through line is slack, not tight. In 2016, the only strong reference to pianos is through Marcelle’s brother, Patrick (Anthony Edwards), who sometimes sits and plays at the grand piano that otherwise lies in the middle of the set.
Patrick is a tricky character whose purpose seems tangled in multiple directions. He’s the story’s narrator, plainly describing both his sister’s family in 2016 and their father’s family in the 1940s. He also recites small speeches about the history of Jews, peppered randomly throughout the show. In one such monologue, he talks directly to the audience about historical violence against Jews, sparing no bloody detail. The show seems to try to hammer the fact that there’s forgotten antisemitism, that history repeats itself, but we don’t need someone to tell us so; the proof is in the play, if we only let it speak for itself.
“Prayer for a French Republic” continues to swing between the personal grasping of antisemitism and didactic retellings of history and the current state of Jews. In an impressive 15-minute tirade in the middle of the show, Elodie leaves nothing on the table in a conversation with Molly (Molly Ranson), a distant cousin studying abroad in France, who stands in as the show’s resident American and liberal. Elodie discusses the differences between European and American Jews and Israel and Palestine with worked-up anger and extensive historical knowledge. Molly doesn’t get in a word edgewise. This monologue partly worked for me, at least more so than Patrick’s somewhat explanatory and guiding speeches. While this part of the play screams “now we’re going to talk about current issues,” using Molly as a device to converse with, and developing Elodie’s character all the while, is more effective than Patrick telling us straight on how we should feel.
Because while “Prayer for a French Republic” may falter in some places, it’s hard for it to fail. Unfortunately, exploring antisemitism is always going to evoke emotion and conjure up connections to the present day, even if the material is being a little pushy. It’s why I could hear sniffles in the audience (including my own). It’s why a girl behind me asked her dad, who was in a kippah, “Why are we why the ones coming to see this? We already know what it’s like.”
There is a magic and heartbreak seeing yourself reflected on stage, especially in a three-hour marathon of tragedy. In the sadness of a show that tries to speak to years of atrocities, there are flickers of optimism and hope. When 1940s Irma and Adolphe are reunited with their son and grandson after the Holocaust, the Benhamou lights Hanukkah candles on the other side of the stage. It is hard not to get teary-eyed watching Jewish people persevering, even when it requires self-preservation.
Thanks for reading! While “Prayer for a French Republic” closes this weekend, here’s a little more about how and why I got to see it.
How I found out about it: Ashley Hufford, a theater influencer, on Instagram. She said out of all the theater she’s seen, it stuck with her the most — and she averages a show a day. (Here’s the post.)
Why I went: Ash’s review was convincing, but I was definitely hesitant with a three-hour run time. After reading more reviews, I was convinced the show was poignant and important — and apparently convinced enough that when no one would see it with me, I still decided it was worth going to!
How I got tickets: Manhattan Theatre Club has $30 under 35 tickets. I signed up for free and they had a ton of availability. My seat was dead center in the front of the mezzanine.