Chessboard of Fate

By T.E.K.

THE RULES OF THE GAME

by LUIGI PIRANDELLO

As Athena sprang full-grown from the brow of Zeus, much of 20th century drama sprang from the mind of Luigi Pirandello. His plays are intellectual position papers outlining the dominant themes of dramatists to come--alienation, absurdity, metaphysical paradox, and an almost eerie psychological portraiture. Since The Rules of the Game is an early Pirandello play, dating from 1919, these themes appear in relatively embryonic form. In some ways, Rules most nearly resembles the young Pirandello's naturalistic short stories, set against the backdrop of his birthplace, Sicily. Like them, it evolves along what might be called Mafia lines of pride, loyalty, honor and revenge.

The hero, Leone Gala (John McMartin), tries to live a life of detached rationality, and has granted his wife Silia (Joan Van Ark) an amicable separation so that she can accommodate a lover. She is a tempestuous creature of instinct who is maddeningly irked by one fact: Leone shows no visible jealousy. She begs her lover Guido (David Dukes) to kill her husband, but he does not really take the plea seriously, and besides he has no stomach for the assignment.

Graveyard Mirth. On a trumped-up charge that some sportive local bloods have attempted to rape her, Silia demands that Leone issue a dueling challenge to one of them, a Marquis Miglioriti. The code requires that a husband avenge an insult to his wife's honor, so Leone accedes and presses Guido, who also happens to be his good friend, into serving as his second. Guido issues an unconditional challenge, only too slyly aware that the marquis is both a crack pistol shot and a master swordsman. But Leone makes the final move on the chessboard of fate. By the iron rules of the game, the second must fight if the principal, for whatever reason, refuses. Leone refuses. And Guido?

He dies at the first shot, a victim of the deadliest rule of all: a husband's right to kill his wife's lover.

A polished cast paced by the sensitive honesty of John McMartin's performance makes the evening hum with suspense. And Pirandello lends it the ironic graveyard mirth of a man who saw life as a comedy for those who think and a tragedy for those who feel. qedT.E.K.

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