The History Boys

Reviewed by Holly Bartges

Ah, the mystery of education: how people learn, why, and when teases debate and conflict whenever brought into focus.

Stephen Maestas and Rob Riney in a scene from The History Boys.

British playwright, Alan Bennett’s six time Tony Award play The History Boys, aptly directed by Sam Wood, rocks the house at Theatre Off Broadway.

Definitely not be missed for a skillion reasons.

Hilariously funny, poignantly thought provoking, History Boys blends the demands of adolescent boys disquieting hormones, the value of history, conflicting educational methods, the pressure of Oxford entrance exams, and the idiosyncrasies of human nature into a compelling adventure.

After an eight-year hiatus, Stephen Maestas returns to the stage in one of the most stunning performances of his career. Wrapping himself into the persona of Hector, an offbeat History teacher at Cutlers Grammar School in Sheffield, England in the 1980’s, Maestas gives himself to Hector. Wearing his passion for teaching on his shoulder Hector bursts into his classroom of unruly, clever, bright, humorous boys with helmet and leather jacket. Hector tools around Sheffield on a scooter, and a couple of not-so-kept secrets in his pocket. The minute expressions Maestas conjures up for Hector demands attention, telling a story all in itself. Maestas wonderfully reflects the inside of Hector with all of his joys, conflicts, disillusionments, playfulness, and defeats through his eyes, facial muscles, “springed” step, and slumped shoulders.

Hector knows these boys, knows how to pull their chains even when they think they pull his. He wants them to know life, see life, and be a part of life in its wholeness. In no way does he wish to stomp on their natural creativity. He even encourages a highly prized game when Posner (Rob Riney) and Dakin (Sean Mellott) act out famous movie scenes taunting the class to name the movie. Learning for the sake of learning is vital to him, no matter how or when it comes. Eventually everything ties together. Learning in some way is a coming attraction. “It hasn’t happened yet. It will.”

For someone dropping by the classroom, one could legitimately wonder what this has to do with history, which is exactly what happens when Headmaster, Armstrong, (Roger Winn) pops in. After all, these boys, headed for graduation, must be ready for their Oxford entrance exams. Acting out famous movie scenes, in French, yet, doesn’t exactly appear to be nailing History. Winn wonderfully pulls together a Headmaster image without caving into a stereotypical syndrome.

Staunch, traditional, Armstrong makes a snap decision, reducing Hector to General Studies, hiring a young tradition-bound History teacher; Irwin (David Russell) to ensure History becomes a strong priority.

The boys are subjected to three different teaching styles. Confident, assured, Gwen Harris plays Dorothy Lintott as a sounding board encouraging Irwin, and at the same time expressing empathy toward Hector. Non-judgmental, Dorothy’s vision goes deep and wide into all-inclusive perception. Harris stands tall in Dorothy’s shoes.

The classroom is set in the middle of the stage with a large impressive montage of pictures of several historical figures, fiction and non- fiction. Designed by Steve Tangedal, Armstrong’s office sits to the left of center stage and the teacher’s lounge occupies the right side. Before the production begins, it is great fun to identify the myriad of historical figures displayed including the good, the bad, the ugly, the feared, and the fearful.

Irwin wants the boys to learn to think, challenging them in a variety of ways. “If you want to understand Thatcher, Stalin or Hollywood, study Henry VIII”. Dakin wants to know point blank if he has a life “or are we your life?”

More importantly, he wants them to learn how to impress. If they are going to get into Oxford or Cambridge, they will be competing with boys who just don’t know about Rome but who have been there. Russell does wonders for Irwin revealing a conflicted personality in his own right. Confident in the classroom, he explores his uneasiness with Dorothy in the teacher’s lounge. He doesn’t understand Hector’s method, panics over the boys not being ready for their entrance exams, struggles to comprehend on a basic level how vital Hector has been to the boys.

Something else is going on. A lot of something else. With raging hormones some of the boys become preoccupied with their budding sexuality. Posner makes no bones about his attraction to Dakin, flaunting his homosexuality. Riney is adorably sharp in this role that calls for a young boy acting out. Cute goes over the top for Posner, but pushing the envelope of acting out demands over the top. Over the top acting out disguises a slew of insecurities that have their own way of peeking through cracks and around corners. Riney juggles Posner’s demands with uncanny perception. When he goes to Irwin questioning his sexuality, nervousness races up and down Irwin’s spine. Why did the boy come to him? Why didn’t he go to Hector? Good question. Why didn’t Posner pose the question to Hector?

Mellott gives a dandy performance through Dakin’s sharp-witted smart mouth. His girlfriend just happens to be Armstrong’s daughter, and yet something sticks in his craw that isn’t quite right. He likes Irwin, but thinks Irwin doesn’t like him. Posner knows Irwin likes Dakin. “He doesn’t look at anyone else. I know because our eyes meet looking at Posner.” The inquisitive energy Mellott provides for Dakin flirts with humor, with a slice of diabolical disguised as “just wanting to know.”

A good part of the time, Rudge sits quietly, alone, to himself. Played by Cipriano Ortega, Rudge isn’t the smartest guy in the class, giving the impression he doesn’t care, and yet Ortega provides him with keeping most of his thoughts to himself. He’s perfectly willing to let the others act out while he sits, thinks, and visits unknown places. He thinks history is a joke, and its all a waste of time. Ortega does a grand job showing Rudge for whom he is.

Taylor Rascher takes on Scripps, who is the only one who believes in God, “the things I do for Jesus.” He has his own acting out to do because if he doesn’t “get over this romance with God now, it will hang over my head for the rest of my life.” Rascher plays him for humored believability, which stands out. George Arvedson cavorts as Lockwood. Timms doesn’t understand poetry; Cameron Varner gives him a strong presence. All of the young actors fill out their individual characters with an honest quality of depth through laughter, confusion, and tears.

Another something else is going on with Hector, the boys, and the scooter. The boys take turns. They see no other way.

In a split second Armstrong’s wife sees something that doesn’t set right with her, creating yet another conundrum.

Accusations fly handsomely from boy to boy, boy to teacher, Headmaster to teacher and raw decisions break open old and new wounds.

When Hector is dismissed, the life force flows straight into the ground. “There’s nothing left”. Dakin’s questioning mind pushes its own envelope. There is something suspicious going on with Irwin, and if that’s overlooked, why is Hector being singled out?

Then there’s the scooter, and an accident. Lives change dramatically.

Tangedal’s lighting design emphasizes crucial jumbled thoughts. The lighting fills in the gaps between inside ramifications and outside projections from joy to confusion to tragedy to perspective. It is amazing how a bright spot serves to underscore lines between the lines.

With a magnificent cast, highly astute direction, a creative and intriguing set, and lighting that ties everything together. Theatre Group’s production of The History Boys sheds a bright spot on adolescent boys, the continuing struggle between teaching styles, recognizing what is truly important and what is not. A stunning thought provoking production that should not be missed. OK, that was already said. It just needs to be said again. Truth bears repeating.