“A Big Blue Nail”
Written by Carlyle Brown
Showing: Victory Gardens Biograph Theater, 2433 N. Lincoln Ave., through March 2
Tickets: $20-$45
Contact: (773) 871-3000; victorygardens.org

By Louis Weisberg

Contributing writer

The world’s great explorers have achieved their milestones by assembling winning teams that provided much of the expertise and virtually all of the legwork for their expeditions. But while the white men in charge have gained glory and immortality, their guides, assistants and sherpas generally lie buried in the footnotes of history.

In “A Big Blue Nail,” Robert Peary, who achieved fame as the first man to reach the North Pole, is guilty of much worse than historical neglect. According to playwright Carlyle Brown he callously betrayed the Inuits who risked their lives to get him to the top of the world and he purposely obscured the pivotal role played by Matthew Henson, the African-American guide and companion who actually beat him to their destination.

Brown’s new play is at its best when it’s examining the tortured relationship between Peary and Henson—a microcosm of racism in America—or shining a light on the shamefully ethnocentric way in which Western history has been written. But Brown has stretched his script thinner than the April ice that Peary’s team hazarded. “A Big Blue Nail” is a high-concept work that features, among other distractions, the Inuit version of a Greek chorus and mythological flights of fantasy that are sometimes so overwrought that they border on parody. Although this polished world-premiere production, smartly directed by Loy Arcenas, works hard to mine the material for entertainment, two hours and 10 minutes of it are just too much.

Still, there is much to appreciate. The set, designed by Arcenas, is magnificent—as evocative as it is functional. Jesse Klug’s lighting eases the frequent transitions from past to present to dream sequences and gives a palpable chill to the Arctic bleakness. The original music and sound design by Rob Milburn and Michael Bodeen lances the atmosphere with danger and foreboding.

The ensemble is excellent, anchored by convincing and finely shaded performances from Anthony Fleming II as Henson and Larry Neumann as Peary. Neumann finds the delicate balance between Peary’s hubris and self-doubt, his strengths and frailties. Confined to bed in his later days, wracked with nightmare attempts to reconcile the struggle between his ambition and his conscience, Neumann’s Peary is a King Lear who refuses to admit his mistake—a tragedy without resolution. Fleming makes Henson into much more than the disillusioned embodiment of Peary’s failure or a victim of racism. Fleming never loses sight of the wonder that inspired Henson, and in so doing he gives the play a poignant and badly needed heart.