Counting and Cracking – 08 September 2024

Counting and Cracking showcases the duality of individual and collective experiences and how they shape our external world in very real, tangible ways. One of the recurring phrases in the show that captures it very well is the idea that two languages make one country, but one official language tears a country apart. This central idea is a microcosm of the show as a whole— the idea that individual rights and freedoms create equality, while elevating one idea as the official/central/seminal idea creates a hierarchy because it necessitates a split between those who meet the criterion (speak the language) and those who are now disadvantaged because avenues are closed off to them.

This story grappled with political questions in a very nonwestern way, while also making that way very accessible to those to whom it was unfamiliar. Despite the story being told in many languages (and I’ll count the hypnotic, rhythmic music as a language of its own), the show was clear, precise, easy to understand, and incredibly well written. The clarity of purpose directed the audience to ask questions about this seemingly radical idea that everyone having the right to their own language/way of expressing themselves created unity and harmony because nobody had a reason to be hostile towards those who were different. Today’s increasingly polarized world is all about getting on the same page, and this idea of unity through differences was truly refreshing.

That was the ideology on paper. In reality, the characters who preached this ideology had servants. For the most part, they treated their help well, but in moments of stress were often short with them and the hierarchy in everyone’s movements and placement relative to each other was unmissable in every single moment of the show. Radha’s interracial marriage was more acceptable before it was exposed to be interpolitical. To her credit, in the next generation she accepted her son’s interracial/intercultural girlfriend without question. As a character, Radha was most interesting to me because she was unwilling to accept things that weren’t binary. Until she knew her husband was going to make it to Australia and she could see him again, she refused to allow herself to hope that he might be alive. Yet she was the champion of justice through individuality with the system of government as the vehicle to grant these rights and protect them.

Politics permeated every moment of this show, and it was interesting in an election year in the US to see the political spectrum in terms of big picture ideas as opposed to familiar party platforms. It helped recenter me into thinking about the issues, not Democratic or Republican party lines. I found myself agreeing with some characters on some ideas, others on others, and the exercise of thinking through how I felt about the issues removed from my specific perspective of the world felt cleansing in the way that it promoted individual thought. Counting and Cracking gave me the freedom to explore within myself ideas of whether I only want votes to count if they agree with me, and if I’d be willing to crack heads that disagreed with me to get people who are aligned with my views into power.

This show was unambiguous in the duality of loving your culture and your land while hating what’s happening in your country. That’s a very pertinent question here in New York, where I frequently walk past rallies and demonstrations of people from one culture or another protesting for their country or demonstrating regarding America’s involvement in a geopolitical conflict. Counting and Cracking held space for many seemingly contradictory ideas about violence, race, culture, pride, history, politics, religion, safety, home, law enforcement, freedom of speech, language, hierarchy— I could go on and on. It was precisely the way of the world— where freedom and power can switch places in an instant and lives that seem to be on a particular path can get irrevocably derailed.

I really enjoyed the scene in the third act where the actors were popping up all over the audience calling for help from their respective riots. The characters on stage felt really far away and helpless to do anything, and the impact of the shouting and the spotlights and the sudden appearances added an immersive quality that really made the fear and adrenaline of the moment seem palpable. The repetition made it never ending and it was the only time in the show the actors on stage seemed weak and powerless and isolated. It was yet another artfully crafted moment where we saw how life can change in an instant.

Ultimately, this show reminded me that if we are all parties of one and respect each other as such, then we are all safe. But when we start forming alliances to elevate a common purpose, someone has to fall in order for us to rise. Because for us to rise means for us to be above one another. In the language of the show, it made me wonder what would happen if we stopped counting votes. Would we still need to crack heads if our society was structured in such a way that people simply did right by one another? There was a part of me that longed for this kind of simplicity. I left this show with a small ache in myself for how beautiful this world seemed in the first act and how painful it was to watch Sri Lanka unravel. Everything from the incredible lighting design, the overlapping memory moments, the powerful characters with their strong convictions, the mesmerizing live musicians, the thorough commitment of the Greek Chorus ensemble characters, the clarifying yet beautiful costuming, the multilingual storytelling devices, and the emotional journey created a Gestalt that ebbed and flowed. Despite its length, not a moment was wasted.

I attended this performance on a press pass through special arrangement with The Public Theater Press Team.