Theatre

Patient No 1

Mercury, Colchester

Michael Billington
Wednesday May 21, 2008
The Guardian

America , it is often claimed, lacks political dramatists. But that is to insult writers as varied as Tony Kushner, Naomi Wallace and Donald Freed. In Patient No 1, Freed has come up with a play that, in its bold assault on a beleaguered republic, outstrips even Gore Vidal's recent elegy for liberal America on The South Bank Show.

The patient in question in Freed's play is George Bush who, having finally surrendered the presidency, has been dispatched to a psychiatric clinic in Florida . Heavily medicated and clad in a hospital robe, the former president resembles some Beckettian relic able to utter only faint popping sounds. Interpreting this as a cry for help, the supervisory doctor, a fellow Yale alumnus, first tries to communicate with his patient through old fraternity numbers such as the Whiffenpoof song. The doctor then enlists the aid of a security agent in staging a psychodrama that will enable the battered Bush, by confronting his true self, to be born again.

In form, the play resembles Freed's Circe and Bravo, in which an isolated power-figure - the First Lady - becomes a vehicle for exposing national turpitude. While this new work is driven by the same moral indignation and is full of momentary excitement, it underestimates Bush's responsibility for his actions. Freed's main point is that Bush was programmed by "a kleptocracy of kinfolk" to steal the presidency, the country and the world's oil, and was a puppet whose strings were artfully pulled. While there may be some truth in this, it overlooks the abundant testimony to Bush's political free will: according to counter-terrorism expert Richard Clarke, it was the president himself who urged exploration of a possible link between Iraq and the 9/11 attacks.

What Freed does, excellently, is convey the mood of an America symbolised by "extreme aggression, extreme fear". Damien Cruden's York Theatre Royal production creates a suitably apocalyptic atmosphere through titanic, Lear-like storms and horror-movie music. Jon Farris admirably brings out the dilemma of the liberal doctor who, while detesting the patient's policies, is dedicated to his redemption. Robert Pickavance makes the addled, incarcerated hero, reliving past memories of brutal initiation rites at Yale, almost indecently sympathetic. Jonathan Race even adds a touch of surreal comedy as the robotic security agent. It's a gripping production of an impassioned play in which the only false note is struck by the implication that Hillary Clinton won the 2008 election.

· Until Saturday. Box office: 01206 573948.