Review: Holocaust survivor rings the alarm about parallels between the past and today in ‘Messenger’

What can a Holocaust survivor teach Americans about fascism, violence and courage at this moment? And if the lessons around being wily and strong in the face of state terror resonate, would we listen?

Those are some of the questions that surround Georgia Gabor, a wiry, indestructible Hungarian Holocaust survivor who became a middle school math teacher in California.

Gabor tells us in “The Messenger” that she is not known to be related to the famous Gabor sisters (Magda, Zsa Zsa and Eva) but she has a story to tell that she wants known across the world.

Gabor (Laura Esping) is the title character in Jenny Connell Davis’ play that’s up in an hourlong one-act production at Six Points Theater in St. Paul.

The only member of the family to live, Gabor dramatically escaped the Nazis three times. Davis’ play shows how her life story impinges on those of others, including a Latine historian and curator named Gracie (Julia Isabel Diaz) who discovers shocking historical documents in a Los Angeles archive, and Angela (Tracey Maloney), a suburban mom who’s concerned about her children being protected from hearing horror stories.

The last character onstage is Annie (Ashley Horiuchi), a young Asian American who finds herself being labeled and on the receiving end of verbal assaults — scapegoating and dehumanization sounds like some of what Gabor experienced.

“Messenger” is not a drama so much as a series of interlocking monologues and testimonials. Like certain poetry forms, words and lines that end one section often begin another.

For example, when Gabor speaks of “the background noise” of bombs in World War II, another character takes over with the same phrase but in a contemporary setting. That practice can sometimes look like the past playing tag with the present.

But history is not repeating itself so much as time seems to be stuck in a glitch, according to the play. For Davis writes, and Faye Price directs, the whole thing as a kind of palimpsest where what’s under the surface just needs a flash of something like ultraviolet light to reveal its presence.

Price’s production takes place on a set dominated by white boxes, the kind used to move archival documents and people’s possessions. All the characters sit onstage during the show that occasionally looks like a painting or a courtroom scene. All speak directly to the audience.

The drama in this type of show comes not from tense interaction between characters but from the power of storytelling. And it is often a difficult thing to pull off. But teaming with her designers, including James Eischen (lighting) and Reid Rejsa (sound), Price has found a battery of ways to animate these characters, making them relatable enough that audience members can lean in.

Esping is wise and steely with an occasional dead stare as Gabor. The character lived a life of miraculous cunning and urgency, and Esping flashes all of that indefatigability and resilience with sureness.

Maloney, a veteran of the Twin Cities’ biggest stages, gives authenticity and understanding to the show’s most problematic voices. For Angela, who starts out swilling wine, is comfortable in her suburban bubble and wants nothing to intrude on her cocoon. The character’s actions against Gabor are clearly misguided, but Maloney sketches the character with clarity and without apology.

Newcomers Diaz and Horiuchi are both credible. Diaz’s Gracie carries a green parasol that matches her dress, and the actor delivers with a clipped primness.

Horiuchi is the most contemporary character and she, likewise, shows a sass that suggests freedom, even as Gracie comes to look at herself in a historical mirror that causes her to gasp.

That’s a metaphor for a show that looks at America through a lens from the past and recoils. “Messenger” could be drawing words of another play, it cannot happen here.

When: 1 p.m. Tue., 7:30 p.m. Wed.-Thu. & Sat., 1 & 7 p.m. Sun. Ends March 23.

Where: Highland Park Community Center, 1978 Ford Pkwy., St. Paul.

Tickets: $28-$40. 651-647-4315. sixpointstheater.org.