IN A WORLD without religion the Old Testament seems like an awesome myth composed of story-book characters and elusive lessons. Its morality is comfortingly simple, and far removed from our own. It is just this distance that makes Psalms of Two Davids an especially interesting show. The play unfolds when truth possessed a beautiful polarity-either the will of God or man reigned supreme in Isreal. Only the blessed could satisfy both masters. Within this matrix the cast of Psalms of Two Davids chants, dances and prays through an exceptional evening of drama.

The depiction of contrasting periods in David's life poses the play's central question-how man reconciles his free will with fate-with a lightness that evokes peaceful thought rather than turgid philosophy. In the first episodes David is called to the court of Saul, where his youth and charisma overcome all obstacles in his preordained drive to supremacy. The second act concerns David's own downfall at the hands of his son Absalom.

Edward Zwick has made the rather barren script, by Joel Schwartz '66, into an excellent point of departure for his ensemble of actors. The cast, combining fluidity and grace with a concern for moral issues, adopt different characters and moves from joyous court scenes to moribund battles with remarkable ease. Bernard Holmberg extends his domain over the entire audience with his powerful portrayals of both the again Kings Saul and David. He carefully constructs the painful tension of a forsaken leader, and confidently bursts into song and dance. In the final scene, his change from proud endurance to senility is stunning.

It is to the cast's credit that no other single character obtrudes beyond the delicate and tasteful interaction of the company. They transform a fundamental lack of character deliniation in the script into an asset, allowing their parts to grow naturally with on another. The best in Brock Patrick Walsh, a strong young David, whose fine singing adds much to his role. Paul Fitzgerald achieves a good sense of comraderie as his friend Nathan, and Michael Brewer possesses all the gruffness, wisdom and maturity of a prophet of God.

The production's success derives mostly from its energetic evolution of theme. The company obviously feels the conflicts they express, and their mimes and mimics seem to grow from their subconsciouses. The most compelling of these is a stylized reproduction of Ammon's rape of his sister that juxtaposes Absalom's revenge upon him. Touches like these take the play far beyond the straightforward narration in the script.

ZWICK HAS FORMED an elaborate refrain of dance and eerie choral ritual. The cast leaps around the stage in simple leotard costumes as it enacts the joy of conquest of the pain of death, reciting biblical passages. Then the actors stop dead in their tracks, while one or two characters speak. A mounting dirge of Hebrew mourning songs is especially provocative.

The dances are obviously performed by amateurs-not entirely beautiful nor well choreographed, but always purposeful. Similarly the enlievening music is well arranged and performed, reinforcing the rest of the production. The feeling of encompassing harmony prevails over minor weaknesses.

Psalms of Two Davids sits like a merciful cloud on a pallid theatrical landscape. It is most engaging because it is filled with fits of life and envy in a time of profound dramatic boredom. Zwick has had the wit to let his cast try something new in every moment of the play.