The Obligation to Live
Bread and Puppet
First Unitarian Church
2125 Chestnut St.
Philadelphia
April 19, 2025
In a world where oligarchs are pulling the strings, it is powerful to see a group of motivated puppeteers take the reins. When the Bread and Puppet brass band played triumphantly and waved a Palestinian flag, I felt a swelling of unity among the crowd as we all clapped to the beat of the drum.
I recently went to see Obligation to Live, a play by Bread and Puppet that just concluded its spring tour at Philadelphia's First Unitarian Church. The show was politically overt in a way that sparked optimism, but narratively obscure in a way that reminded me of the stalemate of leftist discourse.
Bread and Puppet was founded on a strong vision for performing arts with a distinct political purpose in 1963. I have seen their ensemble three times now in different cities and all performances were well attended. Their messages are powerful and direct, and they are not afraid to ruffle some feathers. In fact, their last performance in Philadelphia was said to have been canceled due to violent threats from a Zionist.
The show I saw was an explicit critique of the American imperialist attitude and politic. It rebuked the detainment of immigrants and the genocide of Palestinians. The main conflict of the story was to get the hearts and minds of humanity back out of the trash. However, how we got from point A to point B remained abstract. The plot consisted of a string of definitions and logical riddles that left the audience in the dark.
For example, the first visual that we were presented with was the words “success distress” stacked atop each other on a white banner. They warned us of the perils of capitalism and confidently concluded their point by declaring, “When you transform distress into success, you merely succeed in turning success back into another distress.” What we succeed at is chasing our own tail.
I felt that the most powerful moments of the show were those without words. My favorite puppet consisted of a white sheet attached to a white mask. It looked like the moon when the ensemble worked together under the sheet to lift in it in air. It said nothing and its expression never shifted, it only gazed into a lamp whose light reflected off its round face. The light and the mask moved together as if the puppet were investigating its source, hopeful and sorrowful.
Theater is not about bureaucracy and branding, but about reframing once lived realities. I believe that a story can be a political motivator. It can crystalize complicated feelings about the state of our world and inspire us with a dream of the future. This story sought to inspire the right to live but instead served as a reminder of the ways we talk ourselves in circles with no tangible outcomes. I was looking for catharsis and left feeling confused.
