through October 18, 2026
by Shera Cohen
Define “happiness”. Is it Joy? Satisfaction? Laughter? Surely, many other similar adjectives apply.
In the paraphrased words of real-life Holocaust survivor Eddie Jaku, the word means the ability to breathe one more breath. Could that seemingly easy task mean so much? Coupled with friendship and a smile, Eddie (the solo character in POP’s season opener) and Eddie (the man who survived seven years, first on the fringe, then in the hell of the Holocaust, and finally in the difficult aftermath) affirms this position on happiness.
Actor Robert Resnikoff (Eddie) enters from the wing and walks across the stage with the house lights on, as he waves, smiles, and greets “my new friends” -- the audience. We are immediately taken in by this rather average-looking, affable, elderly man. In Eddie’s preparation for a formal speech, he first runs his story by us. Because the plot is told as an autobiography, playwright Mark St. Germain takes the audience through a series of depictions in Eddie’s life of horror after horror in chronological order.
St. Germain, well-known in the Berkshires and Pioneer Valley as a prolific writer excels at dialogue – its natural flow, emphasis, and silences. The playwright’s best works are biographies; “Best of Friends” about a pivotal Civil Rights debate in the deep South. He also excels at placing fictitious characters into familiar history so that audiences can fully experience the text; “American Son” is near-flawless.
The play is not one of thousands of other books, plays, speeches, et al about the 1930’s/40’s war in Europe which focuses on those enslaved, tortured, and murdered during the Holocaust. The focus is one regular guy, Eddie Jaku, doomed by his heritage. He is a German who is Jewish and a Jew who is German. The distinction makes a difference, as the character explains throughout the play.
Eddie speaks with candor and emotion, which at many times seems to rip his outer shell of a body and his heart apart. Remembrances are clear as if they occurred yesterday. Resnikoff takes his audience with him in the cattle cars, to the work camps, and quarters with piles of men cramped naked on a board to try to sleep. Twice, he was next in line to walk into the gas chamber, yet stopped. Why? He was deferred because his occupational skills were advantageous for the Nazi's needs. Those seated at POP seemingly could not breathe or choked at these emotionally explosive depictions.
In countless ways, it is difficult to separate a review of theatre from the true story. This is one of those cases. Resnikoff becomes Eddie in physical manner, voice, gate, and facial movements.
Chris Ostrom has double duty as set designer and light designer. The set is simple – two chairs, a table in between, and a lamp. Nothing more is needed. Lighting, however, is crucial. No set pieces are moved, but the dark or brighter illumination create stage areas. Only at the play’s start and end, when Eddie’s life is happy, do lights shine bright. In spite of the minimal set, or perhaps because of it, Director Sasha Bratt gives Resnikoff the full stage to occupy. In a few instances the actor stands too far back, against a stage wall. The movement is understandable, coinciding precisely with the text. However, the lattice chairs block most of Resnikoff’s body. Just a few steps to the right or left and all would be perfect.
The real Eddie Jaku said that every breath is a gift, which becomes the basis for the play’s title and Jaku’s autobiography. Future audiences at POP can experience the depth of this raw, emotional, and inspiring story as a gift to themselves.
