It might be thought that some subjects call out to be dramatised, and some do not. The choice by Eric Schlosser to make theatre out of the drafting of the American Constitution by the Founding Fathers was a brave and challenging one. The play, set in 1787 and constituting part of the Globe's "Renaissance and Revolution" season, tells the story of a long, humid Philadelphia summer, during which the nascent government of the United States of America is on the verge of collapse. In the story, as in reality, able and passionate leading citizens of a recently independent United States of America, menaced by the powers of the old world and reeling from internal rebellion, gather to save the Union. Such legendary figures as Benjamin Franklin, James Madison and George Washington, among others, are forced into one room in a moment of crisis to argue the fundamental principles of their new nation and to devise a constitution. The result, of course - one of the most important and radical democratic experiments of the last 250 years - is still in place in the United States today.
      The dramatic performances were laudable. Praiseworthy in particular was the appearance of recent graduate Benjamin Askew as Randolph/Whitworth, who with a George Dubya-like drawl and cheery demeanour managed a convincing impression of boyish brilliance; John Bett was pleasing as Franklin; and renowned Chris Godwin became a steadfast and dignified Mason. There was something of an accent problem, however, which took its toll most precariously in the portrayal of Madison by Robert Bowman, who seemed to waver between Washington and Wakefield in his elocution. Now it may have been, in fact, that the accents of just-pre-Independence American citizens sounded indeed like a mixture of our modern vernaculars on both sides of the Atlantic - and it was probably the case that people in different regions of the States had different accents anyway - but this did not stop the enunciatory vagueness on stage from disconcerting the audience.
      One strikingly aspect of the production was its historically fascinating atmosphere, created not just by the script and acting but also by Paul Wills' set and the arresting music of Adrian Lee. For this we can thank historically-minded director Charlotte Westenra. The design of the main section of the play - the room where the Convention met, complete with banners, a massive overhanging flag and even a real horse, set the scene remarkably well. This staging included punctuation by (mainly black) musicians, intended to represent the plight of those forgotten by the Constitution - slaves and oppressed minorities. The musical performance by veterans Juldeh Camara and Kadialy Kouyate, among others, was a mini-concert in itself and provided a refreshing contrast to the political monotonies of the rest of the play.
      This last sentence betrays the strong feeling I had immediately after watching the play - that it was too long, too dry, and too stagnant. There is little variation: the characters are mostly white, educated male politicians; most of the action takes place in a single room, with little change of scene or mood; most of the dialogue concerns political and legal specifics, and often repeats the same points or issues several times. And despite defensive speeches by proponents of changes or additions to the Constitution, and various ideas being juggled promisingly during the course of debates, one cannot help feeling sympathy with the pleas made by delegates themselves to finish the whole goddam business quickly.
      But this view of Schlosser's play, so I have come to decide, is at once too naïve and too demanding. Nobody can deny the importance of the Constitution to the subsequent history of America and the world. For that reason this vivid drama, forged from the very speeches, letters and documents of the convention, is not just a long play about dead white men, but is a reminder of how the world's most powerful country came to be. For Schlosser to represent this formative moment, to portray it frankly and with moments of comedy and real drama, is an accomplishment.
      Moreover, the government of 1787 was experiencing a large-scale identity crisis - it did not know what sort of country it wanted to rule over, who should govern, and how - and the questions it had to ask itself explore the deepest and often the most important political convictions. Schlosser managed to compress an intense four months' debate about these high matters into a mere two and half hours: given the importance of the play's subject, its deficits as theatre are amply recompensed by its significance as a drama of ideas and as a portrait of a turning-point in world history.
Sophie Erskine