Theater scripted from black boxes
'Charlie Victor Romeo' turns
cockpit-recording trasnscripts of air emergencies into
stage drama.
By Jeanne Claire van Ryzin
AMERICAN-STATESMAN ARTS WRITER
Tuesday, October 8, 2002
"Charlie Victor Romeo" -- it's the NATO phonetic
spelling for "cockpit voice recorder." The black box.
The device that holds all the secrets of why an airplane
crashed -- or so we might wish.
The truth is that a black box recording only sheds a
modicum of light on an incredibly complicated chain of
events and how people reacted to it.
And that is theater. That is the artistic inspiration
of "Charlie Victor Romeo," a performance documentary
derived entirely from black box transcripts of six major
airline emergencies. Winner of two Drama Desk awards,
"Charlie" lands at the B. Iden Payne Theater Wednesday
for four shows.
Created by Bob Berger, Patrick Daniels and Irving
Gregory of Collective Unconscious Theater in New York,
the play is based on Malcolm MacPherson's book "The
Black Box" -- a collection of transcripts of the cockpit
voice recorders recovered after crashes. Berger picked
up MacPherson's book one day a few years ago when he and
Gregory were browsing in a Manhattan bookstore and just
happened to be talking about reality-based television
programming. (Berger had worked for seven years as a
news cameraman for CNN before embarking on a career in
theater. While at CNN, Berger covered the TWA Flight 800
crash in 1996.) Why not create a play based on the real
situations of airline emergencies, the two thought.
It wasn't so easy.
"We wanted to do it right ethically," Berger says by
phone from New York. "It was crucial to treat the
material in a way we felt was respectful. "
And so they agreed: Berger and his collaborators
didn't change a word of the black box transcripts. And
they didn't exploit theatrical special effects to
heighten the drama.
"Charlie Victor Romeo" -- or "CVR" as it's usually
abbreviated -- opened in fall 1999 in the Collective
Unconscious's tiny storefront venue on New York's Lower
East Side. Overwhelming popularity meant they extended
the run for eight months. A big part of their fan base?
The professional aviation community. Pilots came out of
the woodwork to see the show. They stayed afterward and
talked to the creators and cast, offering technical
advice, commending the 80-minute intermissionless show
for its tactfulness and non-sensational approach. In
fact, to date, Berger and company estimate that nearly
one-third of the people who have seen "CVR" are from the
aviation community.
Then the U.S. Air Force got a bead on "CVR." And they
loved it: They filmed a performance that is now used as
a training video for pilots and West Point cadets
enrolled in engineering psychology and human error
courses. Berger and company are still involved with the
Air Force, developing other projects. "We had no idea it
would be this popular," says Berger. "And we're probably
the only theater group with a Defense Department
contract."
"CVR" was on the Performing Arts Center lineup last
fall, but was postponed after Sept. 11. Organizers
didn't feel that they had the right ancillary programs
in place. (All performances are followed by an audience
"talk-back" with the actors as well as aviation and/or
other related experts.)
Berger respected the decision of PAC organizers. But
he flew down to Austin nonetheless to meet Robert
Helmreich, a psychology professor at the University of
Texas who for the past 30 years has been examining team
management under stress. Helmreich will be part of the
post-show discussion on Thursday.
Berger sees no relation between "CVR" and the
terrorists attacks of last fall. "It's really easy to
make a connection between 'CVR' and the events of Sept.
11 based on the fact that both involve the use of
airplanes. But we've never found that the audiences make
the connection. This is a show that trusts its audience
completely," he says. " 'CVR' is a drama portraying
people dealing with a crisis. And that's the same
subject that theater has been dealing with for centuries
-- man battling with the out-of-control monster."
jvanryzin@statesman.com; 445-3699