What does it mean to feel safe? For the world’s Jewish population, this question has never gone away. Chased throughout Europe and the Middle East over millennia, they’ve endured unspeakable horrors and have made extraordinary contributions to the societies in which they’ve lived. In his ambitious Prayer for the French Republic, Joshua Harmon explores the notion of safety as he focuses on a Jewish family living in post–World War II Paris and their descendants who still live there in 2016–2017. Harmon’s 2022 play, which premiered Off-Broadway and then moved to Broadway in 2023, is receiving its first regional production at Theater J. The theater’s artistic director, Hayley Finn, directs this soul-stirring work. The comfortable, urbane life of Marcelle Salomon (Danielle Skraastad) and Charles Benhamou (Ariel Eliaz) is rudely interrupted when son Daniel (Ethan J. Miller), a math teacher at a Jewish school, arrives home one day with a bloodied face and a black eye. Marcelle, who’s Ashkenazi Jewish family has lived a largely assimilated life in France for generations, angrily blames this antisemitic attack on Daniel’s insistence on wearing a kippah in public. For Charles, the attack revives raw memories of a much more recent upheaval. Born in Algeria, Charles was forced to flee with his family when the country gained independence in 1962. Many of Algeria’s French-speaking Sephardic Jews resettled in France. Now, it may be time to flee again. It’s a choice, Charles says, between “the coffin or the suitcase.” The Benhamou family and Molly: Danielle Skraastad (Marcelle), Ariel Eliaz (Charles), Ethan J. Miller (Daniel), Dani Stoller (Elodie), Jourdan Lewanda (Molly). Marcelle and the children gather around Charles who is panicking over his family’s safety. Photo by Ryan Maxwell Photography. The argument for and against immigration, this time to Israel, sprawls across nearly three hours of tense, ironic, and mordantly funny interactions between the Benhamous, their troubled but whip-smart daughter Elodie (Dani Stoller), Marcelle’s secular, bombastic brother Patrick (Cody Nickell), and a visiting young American cousin, Molly (Jourdan Lewanda). Patrick also serves as a narrator, weaving together the Salomons’ multigenerational saga and placing it in a grisly historical context going back long before the Crusades. Through flashbacks, we meet Marcelle and Patrick’s family, great-grandparents. Irma (Brigid Cleary) and Adolphe Salomon (Stephen Patrick Martin) stayed in Paris and survived the war but lost many family members, including son Lucien’s wife and daughters. Lucien’s traumatized son Pierre (Jeremy Allen Crawford) and his father return to Paris but will almost never speak of the horrors they witnessed in the camps. They rebuild the family piano business looted by the Nazis, reassemble their pre-war lives, and largely disappear as Jews into a secular society. The challenge in such a sweeping narrative is to balance character development with the larger underlying themes of nationalism, antisemitism, Zionism, assimilation, and historic persecution. Harmon is largely successful in making us care about his characters. Only occasionally do they lapse into mere mouthpieces for competing ideologies. Theater J’s actors flesh out their roles and encourage us to care deeply for them. Skraastad’s depiction of Marcelle and Miller’s embodiment of Daniel and Lucien are real standouts. The Benhamou family and guests gather around the Seder table in ‘Prayer for the French Republic.’ Photo by Ryan Maxwell Photography. Over three acts, the drama builds toward a volcanic family Seder, where accusations of blame and shame, religiosity, secularism, politics, and polemics fly across the table in all directions. When the time comes for the traditional opening of the front door for the prophet Elijah, Marcelle recoils. The real-life 2017 murder of a Parisian Jewish teacher in her own apartment chills the evening and raises Marcelle’s sense of vulnerability. By the end of that ritual meal, no character is left unchallenged or unchanged. Misha Kachman’s smart and simple scenic design transports us easily from past to present. She also makes effective use of the apron for Elodie’s show-stopping “conversation” with Molly — a manic deluge of assertions and disdain triggered by the naïve Molly’s bland criticism of Israeli settlements. Colin K. Bills’ lighting design ably aids the transitions between past and present. Warmer light suffuses the flashbacks while brighter, colder light helps us examine the families’ complicated present-day concerns. Danielle Preston’s costume design, particularly for Marcelle, illuminates her journey from relative comfort to doubt. When we meet Marcelle, she is the epitome of Parisian chic. Her outfits become more modest over time, and her makeup, visibly subdued. As the Benhamous wrestle with their decision to stay or go, France itself was coming to terms with Marine Le Pen’s first serious bid for office. Patrick scoffs at the possibility that the right-wing daughter of a notorious Holocaust denier would ever win the French presidency. But in the years that have followed Harmon’s important play, Le Pen’s National Front has indeed grown, as have antisemitic incidents throughout the country and elsewhere. We hope against hope that the present decade will not someday be seen by historians as the leading edge of yet another mass displacement. Running time: Three hours with two 10-minute intermissions Prayer for the French Republic plays through November 24, 2024, presented by Theater J at the Aaron & Cecile Goldman Theater in the Edlavitch DC Jewish Community Center, 1529 16th Street NW, Washington, DC. Purchase tickets ($50–$80, with member, student and military discounts available) online or by calling the ticket office at 202-777-3210, or by email ([email protected]). The program for Prayer for the French Republic is online here.