Brecht's Galileo is a complex anti-hero

Galileo: Hero or coward?

That question about the 17th-century scientific genius has been debated for centuries. And German dramatist Bertolt Brecht tussled with it for two decades, in three different versions of his play, "Life of Galileo."

David Edgar's well-received, 2005 English adaptation of the work is based largely on Brecht's final rendition, which he was directing at the time of his death in 1956.

In this telling, the maverick astronomer-physicist Galileo Galilei is a complex anti-hero who submits to pressure from the Catholic Church to recant his "heretical" discoveries about the solar system — much as Brecht, in his final years living in East Berlin, withheld criticism of German communism under pressure.

Brecht's vagabond life and beliefs, in relation to Galileo's saga, is a fascinating subject.

But the Strawberry Theatre Workshop's ambitious but dry mounting of "Life of Galileo" at Seattle University's Lee Center for the Arts, does not translate his conflicted drama of ideas and ideals into explosive theater.

The company should be commended for tackling ambitious plays of real substance. And the director, Rosa Joshi, has proved herself with bold, dynamic renderings of Shakespeare texts. But this "Galileo," while cleanly staged and clearly spoken, is earnest to a fault and surprisingly tepid.

Such Brechtian touches as titles announcing the scenes, a relatively bare stage, and actors visibly shifting around the bare-bones scenery designed by Carol Wolfe Clay, are all in place.

And the show cogently delivers the didactic passages of Galileo (Timothy Hyland) expounding on and demonstrating his maverick theories. Of most import is his finding that the Earth revolves around the sun, a notion that enraged the Catholic Church because it contradicted the existence of a heaven.

In Brecht's (freely fictionalized) account, the scientist is silenced by the Inquisition. Threatened with torture, Galileo renounces what he knows to be true — to the disgust of his peers, and longtime pupil Andrea (Gabriel Baron).

What's more important? Sticking up for the truth? Or saving your neck to make further contributions to knowledge? The parallels between Galileo's era and the historical horrors Brecht was subject to — as a refugee from Nazism, a target of America's Red Scare, and finally as a kind of artistic mascot of East German communism — are easy to spot here.

So are Brecht's warnings in his final draft of "Galileo," which takes a more ambivalent view of its central character and the "dangers of uncontrolled research." In the wake of the 1945 U.S. nuclear attack on Hiroshima, Brecht wrote, "Overnight, the biography of the founder of modern physics read quite differently."

The play has obvious implications for our own scientific era of genetic engineering and global warming. But it is the volatile, unpredictable element of human behavior that can make "Galileo" more than a dialectical debate.

Hyland is a strong actor, and his earthy, ornery Galileo is the most vigorous, lifelike figure at hand — but ostentatiously so. Alone in sporting a jarring Old West twang and demeanor, he's like a slobby cowboy genius on his own planet.

As the pious daughter whose life Galileo almost casually destroys, Hana Lass has some heart-wrenching moments. And Baron gives a sturdy account of Andrea, Galileo's lab foil and, ultimately, his conscience.

Otherwise, the acting in the major roles ranges from capable (Therese Diekhans) to wooden. (Some of the smaller and ensemble roles are played by Seattle University students.)

Another aspect of the show deserves a shout-out: Eyvind Kang's jangling, shimmering original music. It's a jolt of the dramatic energy that should be a bigger part of the equation in this well-meaning but tepid production.

Misha Berson: mberson@seattletimes.com