SISTERS OF THE EMPIRE: (left to right) Rosemary Harris, Romola Garai with Bhavesh Patel in ‘Indian Ink.’ Photo: Joan Marcus

INDIAN INK
By Tom Stoppard
Directed by Carey Perloff
Roundabout at Laura Pels Theatre
111 West 46th Street
212-719-1300, http://www.roundabouttheatre.org/

By Scott Harrah

An epic about an English poetess and an Indian painter in British Raj-era India circa 1930 is heady, tricky stuff for a stage saga.  This formidable revival depicts, in exhausting detail, a story that goes back and forth between colonial India and 1980s England, using limited, colorful sets as a backdrop for this overstuffed tale of Anglo-Indian politics and art, Hinduism and metaphysics, and Britain’s exploitation of its “Empire.” It is this glorious culture clash of two worlds that gives Tom Stoppard’s 1995 drama its consistently riveting force.

When the ailing poetess Flora Crewe (Romola Garai) arrives from England in Jummupur, a native region of India (ironically, in the same year as Gandhi’s famous salt march), she is greeted by subservient men who place marigold garlands around her neck and carry her in a sedan chair as if she were actual royalty. Back home, Flora was anything but regal.  She wrote a scandalous book, A Nymph and Her Muse, and was vilified by the press and public for creating an “obscenity,” but in this land of saffron and oppressive heat, she is an instant celebrity. She will be painted by artist Nirad Das (Firdous Bamji) while fighting off the affections of a garish rajah and a British colonial officer, and struggle keeping the truth about her illness a secret.

Juxtaposed amongst all this romancing of the Raj is time travel back to England in the mid-1980s and Flora’s sister, Eleanor Swan (Rosemary Harris). Eleanor must contend with American author Eldon Pike (Neal Huff), a man determined to get some juicy tidbits for a possible biography and a book of Flora’s letters.  While serving Victorian sponge cake and lots of tea, she must also deal with the probing questions of Anish Das (Bhavesh Patel), the son of the painter Nirad.

Staying focused on everything happening in India and England simultaneously is challenging.  In addition, there is much chatter about “rasas”, tonal schemes uniting forms of Indian art, the blue hue of the god Krishna, and dialogue peppered with endless Anglo-Indian words and phrases. All this might be impressive to British Indian historical scholars. However, talk of going “up the country” and being “sent back to Blighty in a dooley feeling rather dikki” is downright confusing to modern American audiences.  Regardless, Mr. Stoppard’s play keeps us enthralled with many twists about the mysteries of Flora’s Indian escapades. Indian Ink is based on Mr. Stoppard’s 1991 BBC radio play In the Native State, but here, with the help of Neil Patel’s gorgeous sets, everything unfolds magnificently  in the dusky yet vivid colors of the subcontinent.

It is always a pleasure to see the great Rosemary Harris, a nine-time Tony Award nominee and a veritable stage legend.  Her Eleanor is elegant and musical, and we are enraptured by her very presence anytime she is on the stage. Ms. Harris gives everything she has and more to this supporting role.

Romola Garai is winsome in all the right places as Flora, exuding the right mix of charm and enigma to the role.

Besides Ms. Harris, there are many other fine supporting performances, particularly that of Mr. Patel as Anish Das, the dashing son of the painter with whom Flora allegedly had an “erotic relationship.”  Neal Huff is also quite effective as the Texas professor Eldon Pike, a man who is a composite of every scurrilous American biographer digging for dirt.

Director Carey Perloff makes all the time and locale-shifting action gel, but that is a tall order indeed with the complications of Mr. Stoppard’s sometimes bombastic dialogue.  As in many of Mr. Stoppard’s works, it is draining just comprehending everything at times, for all the visual and verbal symbolism gets tiresome.  Still, Indian Ink, although hardly one of Mr. Stoppard’s better plays, is worthwhile for many reasons, particularly its portrayal of the inane self indulgence of the English during the “Empire” era.  Granted, the British Raj is an endless source of nostalgia for Anglophiles, but Mr. Stoppard brilliantly shows what nincompoops the colonial Brits truly were, “ruling” a faraway land that didn’t belong to them.

STAGE LEGEND RETURNS: The great Rosemary Harris with Bhavesh Patel in ‘Indian Ink.’ Photo: Joan Marcus

‘RASAS’ ARE ALL THE RAJ: (left to right) Firdous Bamji & Romola Garai in ‘Indian Ink.’ Photo: Joan Marcus

ARRIVAL IN JUMMAPUR: Romola Garai (center), Ajai Naidu (with umbrella) & cast of ‘Indian Ink’. Photo: Joan Marcus

Edited by Scott Harrah
Published October 1, 2014
Reviewed at press performance on September 27, 2014

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