Now he holds the stage alone, pouring out a richly textured stream of thoughts on and reactions to Israel, which he explored when its half-century anniversary coincided with his 50th birthday. That curiosity value is the least and quickest-dispelled attraction of Via Dolorosa demonstrates Hare's skill and concern as a writer, and his gift of engaging and communicating in the flesh. Deceptively diffident and jokey at the outset, explaining that, having put so many words into so many mouths for plays and films, he 'wanted to see what it was like', he takes us from cosmopolitan Tel Aviv to an aggressive settlement, then across the border to Gaza and the Palestinians, ending a sort of modern, secular stations of Cross in Jerusalem. A documentary might give more statistics, but lack the artist's eye for human colour. A long essay couldn't transmit his changes of pace and style, that stubbornly flickering flame of optimism forever blowing out.
Hybrids have their uses.
Or rather, beginning to understand its magnitude and intractability, through testimony from all sides. Well, Via Dolorosa is a direct if belated answer to that question, coming as it does in the form of a 90-minute account of Hare's visit to the Holy Land narrated by the dramatist. It is that, yes, Israel is in many ways a dangerous, unlovable place which has come to define Jewishness in terms of land rather than ideas, things rather than people. Indeed, the implied accusation is that the nation's present rulers and its religious Right are themselves contravening the Commandment against idolatry. There he confronts the belief that the Bible is a land registry determining ownership forever, that Yitzhak Rabin was a traitor who organised his own assassination, and that the Oslo accords are evil and unworkable - and all from the mouths of generous, kindly, warm people.