Impressive production of 'Breaking the Code' from Performance Workshop Theatre

I thought of that line while attending Performance Workshop Theatre’s impressive production of “Breaking the Code,” Hugh Whitemore’s play about math genius Alan Turing.
When he worked for the British government at hush-hush Bletchley Park during World War II, Turing was hailed for saving thousands of men by deciphering the German’s Enigma machine, which gave the Allies crucial advantages.
But in 1952, Turing, who by then was a major pioneer in computer science at Manchester University, was arrested for a homosexual liaison. In lieu of jail, he was ordered to take estrogen injections. Death, from an apparent suicide, followed two years later. He was 41.
There is no end of irony in the story of a man breaking one code to approbation and another to condemnation. There’s an uncomfortable twinge of tragedy, too.
Whitemore gives us a decidedly sympathetic portrait of Turing as a naïve genius, perpetually awed by ...
Turing seems to have worked out for himself the problem of his sexual orientation, deciding that, for one thing, it wasn’t a problem. But, given the paranoid mood of the ’50s, when gays were so often linked with communists and other nefarious threats, his chances of getting the police to think the same way were slim at best. “Breaking the Code” is a challenging play on many levels. It’s long, slow and talky. Folks expecting flash may find it a tough sit (a group sitting behind me chatted, giggled and tapped their feet rudely through all three hours, rather than slip out at intermission). Extensive discourses on math and computers are beautifully written, but that doesn’t necessarily make for taut theater. Whitemore’s structural device — a large number of scenes that keep moving back and forth in time — also works against tension. But all that is easy to overlook, given the fascinating character of the rumpled, tweedy Turing, with his stammer and nail-biting, and the extraordinary life he led. The role of Turing was indelibly created in 1986 by Derek Jacobi, who performed it on the London and New York stages and went on to do a film version. It’s a tricky assignment, starting with the stammer (Jacobi had that down fabulously from having starred in “I, Claudius”), and the fact that Turing is onstage nearly all the time. Marc Horwitz, co-producing artistic director of Performance Workshop Theatre, takes on the challenge with assurance and sensitivity. It’s a portrayal that rings true at every turn, right down to the tics, which Horwitz does in persuasive fashion, never drawing attention to them. Dianne Hood gives a touching performance as Turing’s mother. Michael Donlan captures the charm and smarm of Ron Miller, the working class bloke who meets Turing at a pub and accepts an invitation to dinner. There is fine-tuned work from Tony Colavito, as the detective who discovers more about Turing than he bargained for; and Rodney Bonds, as the knowing, sympathetic Bletchley Park official. Katherine Lyons could use a little more spark as Pat Green, who falls for her fellow cryptographer. Christopher Kinslow shines subtly in the roles of two young men at opposite ends of Turing’s life. Accents, coached by Horwitz, are remarkably convincing. The production, directed by Marlyn Robinson, flows fluently on Sean Urbantke’s soft-grained set. (Some sort of sonic distraction would be welcome to fill all the air between the many scene changes.) Turing, born 100 years ago, proved invaluable to a war effort and to science, but he just “couldn’t play the game.” “Breaking the Code” reveals what a cruel, senseless penalty he paid. Performances continue through Oct. 28. PHOTO BY KATHERINE LYONS/PERFORMANCE WORKSHOP THEATRE






