WHILE the persecution of Jews by the Nazis has been well documented and dealt with at length on film and television, less has been written about the Nazis' treatment of the disabled.
Nabil Shaban's play is both deeply disturbing and brutally frank
as it tackles the story of four disabled people in 1941, suffering at the hands of Nazi doctors. The programme noted that staging the play was difficult because few theatres were prepared to present such uncomfortable material, so the Royal Lyceum are to be applauded for their decision to show it.
Unabashedly, three of the disabled actors stood naked while being examined, scrutinised and discussed by doctors as though they were objects, not people. Later, after much debate about the most justifiable way to kill them, they were 'dispatched' by lethal injection, to the obvious horror of the audience.
A stirring and disquieting production, it was spoiled somewhat by being just a little too long, particularly the first act. A surreal scene featuring the Nazis dancing alongside the disabled patients also seemed confusing and out of place. For the most part, the ensemble were excellent, with only the occasional wooden moment, but these stood out all the more because of the generally higher standard of performance. There were stand-out performances from several of the cast though, especially Shaban as Siegfried, Robyn Hunt as Heidi and a perfectly confident Cerrie Burnell as Brunhilde.
The set featured several screens on wheels used to denote different scenes, and these were moved around in a choreographed fashion which, while it did little to add to the story, was a nice touch. Lighting designer Paul Sorley deserves kudos too, for his particularly mood-enhancing designs, whatever the scene.
Uncomfortable as the subject matter was, The First To Go was a prime example of what theatre is capable of and, while the story was too grave to be considered merely entertainment, it served as both a cathartic and an educational tool. If that tool was occasionally a blunt instrument, that may perhaps have been a symptom of frustration at how this hidden holocaust has been largely ignored by history.
With writing and performances as good as this it's unlikely to remain hidden for very much longer.
The full article contains 388 words and appears in Edinburgh Evening News newspaper.
