Lloyd Suh’s “The Far Country” is a talky, low-key drama about major life changes, given grand visual splendor in a finely designed production at Yale Repertory Theater through May 18.
The play is about immigrants who arrived in the U.S. from China at the end in the early 20th century. There are scenes set in China, where the fraught decision to leave the country is being debated, and scenes set in California, where the dialogue is more legal and judgmental and where it is made clear that Chinese immigrants are not welcome at that time.
You don’t know until well into the first half of this two-hour-plus drama what exactly the play is about or who the likely center of attention is. It turns out to be a group of linked scenarios all inspired by the U.S. government’s attempts to restrict immigration.
The U.S. president at the time the story begins in 1909 was William Howard Taft. A giant photo of him dominates the play’s set as you enter the theater. Within five years of that time, Taft would be out of office and teaching at Yale Law School, which is not relevant to the plot but might spark a few images in the minds of Yalies and New Haveners. Yale’s history of sending many of its graduates on to political offices and New Haven’s present-day status as a sanctuary city all add resonance to “The Far Country” humanity-based study of immigration issues. The Yale Rep is about as ideal a regional theater to host this theatrical discussion as you could find.
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“The Far Country” opens with a long scene where a Chinese businessman, Han Sang Gee, is being questioned by officers from the Bureau of Immigration and Naturalization Services. It is 1909, and a federal policy excluding Chinese immigrants from applying for U.S. citizenship has been in effect since the 1880s. The surest method — and it’s not sure at all — for Chinese immigrants to stay in America is to convince the government that they were born in the states.
There is scheming on both sides. The immigration officers are eager to deny claims of citizenship and setting impossible tests to determine what the applicants remember of their alleged U.S. families and childhoods. The applicants, in turn, are coming from China having paid exorbitant amounts to moneylenders for the opportunity to live the supposed American dream. They are prepping for the immigration interrogations by memorizing long lists of minute details about people, buildings and weather patterns.
The scenes where the government agents drill the potential citizens use a familiar theatrical device where a foreign language, in this case a couple of different Chinese dialects, are rendered by having the lines spoken in English but in a different tone of voice. Han Sang Gee answers the questions as if he is speaking Chinese but the actor is in fact speaking English. A character who is serving as a translator repeats the same words as if he is rendering the speech in English for the first time. The translation conceit does not fall away. It lasts through the entire interrogation. The effect is hypnotic. Everything is said twice, with slight vocal variations. The audience absorbs the words but also senses what a numbing endurance test these meetings can be.
Suh creates long stretches of dialogue where the audience cannot take what is being said at face value. This is a drama of subtext and inner feelings. The questioning sessions show the desire and anxiety behind seeking a better life. But the subterfuge, masking or self-deception isn’t limited to answering questions by authority figures. There is a romantic scene that takes the form of a business arrangement. There’s a family reunion which is a confession of lost innocence and corruption. The final scene brings the warm heart/cold world clash to its most extreme point.
Suh, to put it mildly, is not an action-oriented playwright. The last play of his to be seen on a New Haven stage was “The Chinese Lady” at Long Wharf Theatre in 2021. “The Chinese Lady” was a long quiet meditative monologue told in the voice of the first Chinese woman to set foot in North America. “The Far Country” has a much larger cast but is similarly low-key and internalized. Some of the characters are being held in detention centers or are overworked or subject to danger. Their physical travails are only spoken about, the psychological turmoil is what’s being shared.
Suh’s plays work very well as readings and minimally staged sedentary productions. There’s an audio production of his historical comedy/family drama “Franklinland” done by L.A. TheatreWorks that demonstrates how engrossing his words can be devoid of sets and lights and costumes.
In the self-congratulatory post-curtain-call onstage gathering of cast, crew and staff, the theater’s managing director Florie Seery noted that “You could have heard a pin drop” during the performance, the audience was so quiet and attentive. Yet such intense concentration is really the only way to experience a Suh play.
Yale Rep has assembled a cast that understands the specific needs of a Suh script. The repetition of the interrogation scenes are played rigidly and stoically, while the scenes between the interdependent Chinese immigrants and their families or co-workers find the deep humanity between the lines.
David Shih as Gee is credibly insincere as he tells the other characters what they want to hear, then remarkably vulnerable and emotional when he’s in an unguarded state. Hao Feng as the young hopeful immigrant Moon Gyet is an everyman of sorts, representing a common experience of being exploited and ignored. There are two strong roles for women: Tina Chilip as Moon Gyet’s farmer mother Low and Joyce Memei Zheng as Yuen, who ponders the difficult and uncertain prospect of a journey to America with a manner that is both romantic and practical. Suh writes sensitively for all these different characters and moods.
“The Far Country” is directed by Ralph B. Peña, who has worked with Suh numerous times, including directing “The Chinese Lady” at Long Wharf as well at New York’s Public Theater. The Yale Rep had originally announced that Eric Ting would direct “The Far Country,” which would have been intriguing, but having Peña do it is a comfort.
Peña knows exactly how to pace Suh’s rhythmic dialogue with careful modulations of volume and emotion. Yet what truly distinguishes this production are its designers, most of whom are Chinese and all of whom use their artistry to beautifully enhance and expand upon Suh’s vision. Scenic designer Kim Zhou, currently finishing her studies at the David Geffen School of Drama at Yale, uses doorways, tables, chairs and windows to create subtle frames around the performers. Lighting designer Yichen Zhou creates useful shadows without yielding to too much darkness. Sound designers Xi (Zoey) Lin and Joe Krempetz insert random, ambient background noises like clucking chickens along with a sinuous musical score. Costume designer Kiyoshi Shaw provides outfits that helpfully remind you of the show’s early 20th century time period yet also seem natural, comfortable and well-worn.
Suh’s quiet, often static conversations could easily be done on a bare, open stage. The designers see a chance to deepen the create an aura around the actors. It all adds to the softspoken poetic feel of “The Far Country,” a calm reflective drama about loud angry things like bigotry, culture shock and massive shifts in how and where one lives.
“The Far Country” by Lloyd Suh, directed by Ralph B. Peña, runs through May 18. Performances are Mondays through Fridays at 8 p.m. and Saturdays at 2 and 8 p.m., with an added matinee on May 8 at 2 p.m. $15-$65. yalerep.org.
