Spy Theater Review: ‘Man From Earth’ visits Oxford by Steve Parks

To understand where a play entitled “The Man From Earth” comes from – aren’t we all men and women, etc. from Earth? – look to the author of the book on which the screenplay and subsequent stage drama was drawn as source material.

The play evolved in stages from the mind of Jerome Bixby who wrote the novel and screenplay for the cult film of the same title on his deathbed in 1998, dictating it to his son. Bixby was a short-story author who gained notoriety as the writer of a 1961 “Twilight Zone” episode, “The Good Life,” later inducted into the Science Fiction Hall of Fame. He followed that up with four episodes for the “Star Trek” TV series, including one – “Requiem for Methuselah” – which inspired “The Man From Earth” and the subsequent posthumous stage drama adapted by Richard Schenkman.

The premise of the story is simple enough: John Oldman, whose surname serves as a pun for what is about to transpire, is a popular university professor leaving his tenured position behind to “move on.” His colleagues are shocked. They gather at his residence where he’s packing up to leave to who knows where.

Greg Allis as John is at once professorially erudite and personally engaging enough to hold our attention as well as that of his fellow professors. But his reason for moving on becomes preposterously evident near the outset – so much so that it’s quite a stretch that any of these scholars, with one or two exceptions, seem to take him seriously.

John claims that he moves on every 10 years or so in order to avoid questions about why he never appears to age beyond 35. Which is remarkable in that he claims to be roughly 14,000 years old. While he does not say he’s met every famous person in that eons of time – Van Gogh is suggested by a self-portrait he owns – does admit to encountering the first Budda of that religion and, along the way, Moses. Stretching his claim to its very limits, as one of his religiously devout colleagues presses him, he not only says met Jesus but that he was the one on the cross. Never mind how he survived another 2,000 years.

Not all his colleagues are as gullible as Sandy, played devotedly by Cavin Alexandra Moore, whose excuse is that she’s in love with John. Mary Ann Emerson as Edith, an art historian, considers John’s claims of almost-eternal life more a sacrilege than an impossibility, even though he does admit that dinosaurs were way before his time. Art, an archaeologist and John’s most vociferous doubter, is played with the zeal of true-felt outrage by Chris Agharabi.

Others among the “faculty” of players are more malleable. How could they possibly believe this tallest of tall tales? Dan, an anthropologist played boisterously by Zack Schlag, seems to be an unlikely convert, except that he exhibits a genuine affection for John and wants to believe him. Madeline Megahan as Harriet the biologist, straddles the fence with impertinent wisecracks here and there on either side of the question at hand.

Corrie James, as a senior psychologist, shows up late in the farewell “party” – there are drinks involved – ostensibly to evaluate the state of mind, sane or otherwise, of John Oldman, the ageless wonder. Her presence introduces the only physically dramatic sequence in the heretofore verbose exchange of ideas surrounding a fantastical premise.

The in-the-round staging of this play – the first in decades for Tred Avon Players, according to Storm, its director, suited the story impressively. Any of us who have ever moved to another location or station in life can relate to the pile of boxes and bare furnishings at the end, as rendered by set designer Laura Nichols.

While elitism is certainly out of favor in the current political climate, it is refreshing to hear thoughtful exchanges of historical and cultural references to what and where we are today. The implied wisdom of a 14,000-year-old man, however make-believe it may be, should not be dismissed as mere parody.

It’s art. Not politics.