I see where Arthur Miller’s Incident at Vichy is being revived off Broadway next year, produced by and starring Alex Winter of Bill and Ted fame. An article in Deadline states that the show will feature actors of various races and genders and “strip away the lavish, realistic set and period costumes” of past productions. It quotes the production company Small Boat Productions as saying, “This is not a play about one moment trapped in time; rather, it is a play about an ongoing catastrophe of indifference and inaction in the face of atrocity,” a theme it contends is being played out in “Ukraine, Lebanon, Gaza, Iran, and Minneapolis.”

In fact, the play is clearly about a moment in time: it is explicitly about the Vichy government hunting down Jews and other undesirables on behalf of the Nazis. A number of men who have been rounded up on the streets for no given reason are waiting in a room for racial inspection. That includes checks for circumcision, which is going to make this multi-gender casting interesting. It takes place on a single set – I’m not sure what they mean by lavish – and the “period costumes” are simply normal clothing.

The play gets its universality from its specificity. Most in the room are clinging to the illusion that they will be spared since they are innocent of crimes – not realizing, or willing to realize, that their crime in Nazi Europe is being who they are. Yes, that theme is eminently applicable to crises elsewhere, though the mention of Minneapolis is telling — are they seriously comparing that to Vichy France? The switching of race and gender will be nice and ever-so-trendy, but it will dilute the reality of what’s being portrayed. It shows a lack of trust or understanding in the material.

I would have thought Winter would have learned from the stark austerity of his previous New York appearance, last year’s Waiting for Godot. Samuel Beckett’s estate evidently has more integrity in its oversight of its productions.

The last Vichy production I saw was over a pub in London, directed by Phil Willmott in a beautifully stripped-down version with nothing but a single bench against a sheer white wall. Willmott let the text speak for itself, a highly effective approach. My review of that is below. I’m delighted that this unfairly overlooked piece is getting a new staging, but I hope they keep in mind what makes it such a searing piece of theater.

• Incident at Vichy

6/15/17 (Thurs), Kings Head Theatre

A fascinating rarity from Arthur Miller. A number of men are seen sitting on a bench in a non-descript room in nervous quiet. When one frightened character breaks the uncomfortable silence, we learn that they are waiting for an interrogation, having been rounded up on the street by the Vichy police. No reason has been given for their arrests, though most in this Kafkaesque setup clearly have an inkling: the talkative character had his nose measured before being taken away, a bearded character in unmistakable Jewish dress is brought in, an officer reveals that they will have their penises checked, and rumors have been swelling of Jews being carted off to work camps. Still, there is also a respectable looking businessman and an aristocratic Austrian gentleman among them, allowing the characters to cling expectantly to the hope that this is just a routine document check.

The tension builds as each is called inside one by one, with only some emerging again before the next is summoned. As the group shrinks, one character, noting that there is only a single guard at the door, proposes forming a group to assault him and escape. Others resist. They argue against jumping to conclusions since this is just an interrogation, insisting that they will be released once it’s clear that they have done nothing wrong. The fey thespian dismisses entirely the rumor that Jews are being slaughtered, saying that the Germans would be crazy to kill a good source of cheap labor. He and others refuse to be swayed despite the ominous actions of the French and German authorities who occasionally enter the room. In the end, with only two persons remaining, the Austrian prince, released quickly after his check, takes an action of great personal sacrifice (based reportedly on a real-life incident).

The debate basically comes down to whether the victims should meekly accept their fate on the slim chance that they will be spared or resist in the slim chance that they will succeed. More broadly, it shows how we often prefer to cling to our illusions rather than dare to deal with reality. There were some striking moments, especially the unexpected scattering of the feathers when the police tear the bag from the hands of the mute Old Jew. And the characters themselves aren’t let entirely off the hook. They cast suspicion on a gypsy among them for his ethnicity, and the accusations of one man against the Austrian prince, equating him with the Nazis just for being who he is, seemed unfair though very up to date in the present political atmosphere. Miller unspools information slowly and devastatingly, giving us much to think about.

The set featured a single bench against a stark white wall with glaring lighting, while an unseen cell door could be heard loudly opening and slamming shut whenever a character was called in. The spare Beckett-like design contributed in an extremely effective way to the menacing atmosphere.

The cast was well chosen and precisely directed by Phil Willmott, who adeptly allows the tension to build throughout until the cathartic ending. The characters (speaking in various British accents) seemed taken from central casting – painter, actor, socialist, waiter, doctor, aristocrat, kid – but are all given their moments, which the cast makes the most of. There wasn’t a dud in the bunch, but the standouts were Lawrence Boothman as the high-strung painter, PK Taylor as the prim actor with his naïve conviction that German culture and humanity will save them, and Jeremy Gagan as the quiet but moving Old Jew. The relatively large size (13) of the all-male cast may limit the commercial possibilities of this short play, but this superior production makes a brilliant case for it.