By Kimberly Harper

What makes a monster a monster? When do a man’s bad deeds outweigh his humanity? And how much do others play in his role in history?

These are the questions that Nicholas Wright’s “A Human Being Died That Night” strive to answer. The atrocities of apartheid in South Africa are the catalyst for, but not the focus of, this think piece that will be on your mind for days after.

Based on a true story, the one-act play opens with South African psychologist Pumla Gobodo-Madikizela giving a talk at Harvard University. As a former member of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in post-apartheid South Africa, she was tasked with interviewing and getting to know incarcerated police officer Eugene de Kock, whose actions during apartheid resulted in the deaths of many and gave him the nickname “Prime Evil.” He is serving two life sentences plus 212 years for his crimes when Pumla, he calls her throughout, enters his visiting area.

Pumla, for her part, does not call him Eugene, trying to maintain a professional distance that eventually proves impossible. From the first meeting, which de Kock jokes looks an awful lot like a scene from The Silence of the Lambs, she struggles to separate the man in front of her from the monster she’s heard about. “I was a cog in a machine,” he explains, admitting to his heinous acts, but not taking full responsibility, instead calling out all those who were still walking free and feigning innocence.  “I was the big fish…White South Africa needed a scapegoat.” Pumla’s frustration at getting him to connect himself with his atrocities is palpable.

The play itself is only 90 minutes, but in that time, both characters show tremendous growth and reflection. De Kock, for his part, eventually puts his actions into perspective, and has something of a breakdown when he recalls one of his assassinations. Pumla realizes that “the difference between good and evil is only paper thin.” Later she says that when someone is working as part of a larger system, good or evil, it makes it hard for an individual to feel the weight of his actions. It seems overly merciful for her to say about a man who has taken so many lives, often in incredibly cruel ways, but she realizes that even this man has humanity at his core. Although she has no say in whether his sentence is reduced, her concessions in this matter clearly mean a lot to de Kock.
Director Judith Swift and her cast of two take this wordy one-act and make it sing. Gamm newcomer Kortney Adams allows us to see all sides of Pumla, who is conflicted not just about the case in front of her, but about her personal life and the problems that persist in South Africa. Even when she is not speaking, Adams is constantly fully engaged in her environment. Her nonverbal responses are a master class in reacting. And Gamm resident actor Jim O’Brien infuses de Kock with enough humanity that we can see this is a man who has gone terribly, terribly wrong, but is undeserving, perhaps, of the branding his country has given him. It’s a surprise you are not expecting going in, and helps you understand the character’s internal conflict all the more.
Overall, “A Human Being Died That Night” is not easy material to grapple with, and if you can make the Thursday, March 29 talkback at Gamm at approximately 8:30 p.m., you should. Try to get tickets for that night so the show is fresh in your mind. It may not be easy theater, but it’s strong, necessary, and incredibly relevant subject matter that is masterfully presented. To miss it is to miss out.
A Human Being Died That Night runs through April 1 at The Sandra Feinstein Gamm Theatre, 172 Exchange St., Pawtucket. Tickets start at $44 and may be obtained by calling 401.723.4266 or online at gammtheatre.org