Theater review: ‘Disgraced’ describes terror of living a lie

Through Feb. 14. 7:30 p.m. Tuesdays-Thursdays and Sundays; 8 p.m. Fridays-Saturdays; 2:30 p.m. Saturdays-Sundays. $20-$73. Alliance Theatre, 1280 Peachtree St. N.E., Atlanta. 404-733-5000, www.alliancetheatre.org/disgraced.

Bottom line: Riveting.

Amir Kapoor is an ambitious mergers-and-acquisitions attorney at a New York firm. He wears $600 Charvet shirts and lives in a stunning city apartment with a balcony view.

His wife, Emily, is a talented painter who finds inspiration in the pure, geometric forms of Islamic art and the Baroque complexity of Old Masters. In the opening moments of Ayad Akhtar's blistering 2013 Pulitzer Prize winner, "Disgraced," she sketches a study of Amir after Velazquez's portrait of his slave Juan de Pareja, who was freed by his master in 1650.

That image — of a man who is proud, arrogant and deeply conflicted about his identity — hangs over the Alliance Theatre’s eloquent and essential production of “Disgraced.” In a taunt 90 minutes, Amir disintegrates, and a stew of religious and racist hate-mongering is served up as tidily as a tray of dinner-party canapes.

The genius of “Disgraced” is the way it uses Amir’s demons to put forth a robust and withering discussion of politics and faith in the continuum of history, from the time of Muhammad to the age of Velazquez to the fall of the Twin Towers.

So what’s eating Amir (played at the Alliance by Andrew Ramcharan Guilarte)?

Born in America to Pakistani immigrants, he is “passing” as a person of Indian descent. It’s a lie but a decision he feels necessary for success in white, corporate America.

After his nephew, Abe (Ali Sohaili), and wife (Courtney Patterson) implore him to testify on behalf of a Muslim cleric accused of having terrorist ties, The New York Times publishes an ambiguous mention of his court appearance. And let’s just say his Jewish-owned law firm is not amused.

As it happens, Emily’s work has attracted the attention of Isaac (Andrew Benator), a Jewish art dealer who is married to Amir’s colleague, Jory (Tinashe Kajese-Bolden), who is black. During a dinner party to celebrate Emily’s forthcoming art show, Amir has too much to drink. Insults fly. Shoes drop. And we’ll just leave the plot right there.

Director Susan V. Booth and her actors and designers deliver a knockout production, all the more remarkable considering Guilarte arrived two weeks into the process, after the departure of another performer. Guilarte’s powerful account of the smug and combative Amir is the glue that holds the canvas together.

Patterson’s take on Emily is rather demure and worshipful at first, yet she smartly calibrates her performance into something real and affecting.

Benator, though a little hard to understand at the top of the show, is very good as Isaac: an up-to-the-minute fashion statement of expensive shoes and above-the-ankle pencil-leg pants. (Isaac’s slow appraisal of Emily’s focal-point painting is a hoot.) Kajese-Bolden is terrific as Jory, a wholly decent woman who doesn’t suffer BS gladly. (Just watch Jory’s delicious response to Emily’s anchovy and fennel salad.)

Though Sohaili’s part is small, by the end, Abe will rise up in disappointment and anger at his uncle. (For a play that runs like clockwork, that final scene feels a little tacked on, as if the playwright has written his way into a corner and can’t find his way out.)

Here the designers are gifted storytellers, too.

Tony Cisek’s splendid set is an expression of how New York’s moneyed elite lives. Between scenes, projections of Emily’s portrait of Amir illuminate the stage — a doomed man staring into the abyss. Lex Liang’s costumes are spot on for this status-conscious group: crisp shirts for Amir; the artsy look for Isaac; Louis Vuitton bag for Jory; and rhinestone stilettos for Emily, so tall and yet so vulnerable. (Lap Chi Chu paints the stage with sensitive lighting, and Clay Benning adds an urgent soundscape.)

In an amazing turn of craft, “Disgraced” crystallizes the fraught nature of the day. We see terror lurking at every corner. But down deep in our souls, we know the enemy is within.