Continental Divide
Barbican, London

Patrick Hayes

Continental Divide is a masterpiece written by a playwright at the height of his talents. It delivers insight into the human condition with the ease that only comes after years of intense work mastering the skill both to tap into the zeitgeist and to transcend it.

Even more remarkable is that Edgar barely taps the major theatrical themes of the day. Love, family relationships, madness and friendship all appear here but are not held under the spotlight. Indeed the scope of Edgar's plays makes all these issues seem trivial. Edgar's aim is to examine the political attitudes of both the American left and the right (both sides of the 'Continental Divide') and to compare and contrast how these perspectives have altered since the 1960s. He is ruthless in his ambition and refuses at any point to pander to the audience - over a period of five hours he subjects them to a multitude of views, characters, references and dense, analytical discussion.

The first of the two plays, Mothers Against, holds the magnifying glass over a small group of people preparing for a single, but significant event. It a deeply claustrophobic affair, set over a weekend in the country mansion of campaigning Republican politician Mitchell Vine. The entire campaign team is there, preparing the charismatic, idealistic Vine for a TV showdown with his Democrat rival the following week. The play initially focuses around dislikable minor characters and Vine is introduced slowly, through their eyes. As the weekend progresses the fundamental tensions at the ranch become apparent - those of pragmatism against principles and the good of the party over the authenticity of a single individual.

Vine is far more left wing (to the point of being an anarchist) than even his Democratic opponent, and is the bane of his campaign team as a result. Recognising that he is greatly respected for his integrity, the team make a deal with Vine that they should focus on the issues that he has in common with the voting population and simply remain silent on others, leaving it to be falsely assumed that he toes the Republican line.

Finally, however, there is an issue that cannot be agreed upon - Vine fundamentally refuses to support a bill that would criminalise the freedom to protest. The fate of the election is seen to hang upon the decision whether or not Vine should stick to his guns or compromise his beliefs for the 'greater good' of the Republican party. Vine has to decide whether he is to be a martyr for his beliefs or whether he should become a compromised, diminished version of himself in power. Those trying to persuade him to act for the common good couch their arguments in the language of the 'tribe'. Vine is told he has to defend a certain tribal heritage, to recognise that he is simply a tool for a greater movement.

What Edgar brings out strongly is that this 'tribe' is not formed around a common purpose with a common sense of direction - it is a collection of fickle individuals who are continually shifting with contemporary trends and events in order leap on bandwagons to try to seduce voters. Whilst this slippery, malleable approach may win votes, it is decidedly short-termist as it means that people will become tired and distrusting of the perpetual contradictory statements that politicians come out with. Vine's great strength is that, through maintaining his principles and refusing to compromise them for short-term political gain, he becomes a figure that people can trust, even if they disagree with him. Through maintaining his integrity, through choosing to act in a way that corresponds with his beliefs, Vine embodies those beliefs and stands as a bastion of hope in an age when people are becoming cynical of the idea of trust.

The second play in the cycle is Daughters of the Revolution. It is only by watching the two back to back that it can truly be understood how such a gargantuan intellectual slow-burner of a play as Mothers Against can be regarded as a mere companion piece. Daughters of the Revolution centres around Michael Bern (the negative image of Mitchell Vine) a romantic with anarchist ideas who has chosen to walk the path of the left hand side of the Continental Divide. Bern is a 55-year-old sociology teacher who has just been asked to lead a prestigious government research project. During a surprise party in which his FBI file is presented to him, he realises that his past as an activist could, if brought to light, destroy his future career. Bern sets out on a quest to meet with all his old comrades in order to establish who reported him to the FBI. As a result, Edgar presents us with the life-choices of a spectrum of old left wing political activists and how they now face the contemporary political and social climate.

We are presented with characters now working 'with the system' in the Democratic party. Lefties turned right-wing reactionaries. There are aging Communists trying to politicise the ghettos. There are people tagging onto anything that will give a glimpse of the sense of community and solidarity they once experienced in the 1960s, such as the tree-hugging movement. The characters are richly painted and, it must be said, effectively brought into life by the empathetic ensemble of actors. Edgar's main intention behind these meetings between Bern and his old comrades seems to be to draw out the various modes in which old idealists have now compromised their beliefs.

What both Vine and Bern have in common is that they haven't lost faith in attempting to realise their utopian visions. Both still believe in the transformative power of human agency and remain firm in this belief against all doubters. Bern draws this out beautifully during the verbal climax of the play when faced with a barrage of cynicism by Democrat politician Rebecca McKeane:

'From time to time there's groups of people in this country who're prepared to come together, to break the chains of history and to try to live the future in the here-and-now... I've been saying that for thirty years and I had doubts about it then and God knows it's hard to think that now. But I need to act as if it could be true, because otherwise it never will be.'

This quite moving speech is, sadly, as pathetic as it is bold. The belief in human agency, that we are able to have a significant effect on society through our actions in order to generate things that would never be the case otherwise is positive. The problem lies in the immediate, ahistorical attempt to attempt to realise a utopian vision. Trying to 'live the future in the here-and-now' is an admission of defeat - that Bern cannot engage with the society that he lives in enough to be able to forge a project in this society that points towards a better future. Instead he chooses escapism, to try and live an imagined future apart from the real world that he is so dissatisfied with. It is no wonder his son has become a banker investing in tree-hugging in Thailand: had he stayed with Bern he'd likely have ended up in the same state as Lucia in Calico.

As a result McKeene's criticism of Bern that, 'You don't know what you're for, but you sure as hell know what you're against' resounds deeply. Bern is trapped between a utopian vision of the future and a deep belief in humanity, and a contemporary world with which he is dissatisfied at every turn. When faced with the politics of 'there is no alternative', Bern postulates a hippy commune standing outside of society that seems both as boring and as fantastical as the Elysian fields presented in Elmer Rice's Adding Machine.

It is likely that David Edgar's Continental Divide will be a play more studied than performed. It is worth sitting through it, though, not in order to either empathise or sympathise with the characters, but rather to see this effective group portrait of the compromised, alienated, stagnant, frustrated lives of the 'baby boomer' dreamers and to recognise how they fail to understand the world today and lie to themselves in order to cover up this sense of defeat. Those of us who believe in forging a better society from the rich history and culture of the one that exists now, rather than hiding away as part of a tree-hugging, frog-worshipping tribe, can learn a lot from this honest and masterful presentation of the failures of our parent's generation.

Run over.