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‘Staff Meal,’ Avant Garde, Experimental, a Review
In the notes from playwright Abe Koogler about Staff Meal, directed by Morgan Green, currently at Playwrights Horizons, Koogler hopes that the audience, “will emerge from it the way you might emerge from a transportive meal in an unusual restaurant in a part of town you’ve never been to before. The avant garde work, shrouded with a uncertainty is most interesting when there appears to be a linear forward movement among characters during vignettes of scenes which take place in Gary Robinson’s restaurant, that once was packed, but by the end closes down.
At the top of the play Ben (Greg Keller) and Mina (Susannah Flood), sit near each other in a coffee shop working on their laptops. Eventually, their proximity prompts them to become familiar with each other so after a number of days, saying “Hi,” and other chatty comments, they leave and seek better coffee and/or food elsewhere. The search leads them to Gary Robinson’s restaurant.
The rapport and pacing between Keller and Flood is enjoyable and funny by these talented actors. However, it ends when they get bogged down ordering from a waiter who takes an inordinately long period of time to take their order and bring back an excellent wine. In the interim, they take humorous and sobering flights of fancy about their personal lives which include some of the most imaginative dialogue in the play. However, when the waiter has not brought their food, then the scene shifts with the mood, and the focus becomes their waiter and his experience at the restaurant.
As a flashback of “The Waiter” segment begins, Ben and Mina leave “hanging in the air,” the thread of dialogue along with Ben’s story about his dog, whom his parents mistreated during the time he lived with his family in Spain. Hampton Fluker is the waiter who enters the spotlight. He discusses his time at the restaurant joined by other members of the wait staff (Jess Barbagallo, Carmen M. Herlihy), and chef Christina (Erin Markey), who serves them their delicious “staff meal” before they begin the evening’s service. Fluker’s waiter declines the meal at this point because it is his first day and he is afraid he will throw up out of nervousness.
What is striking about this vignette is that Christina doesn’t come up with ordinary food for the staff, but serves them extraordinary dishes following the philosophy of Gary Robinson, who emphasizes the importance of being of service to others. As one of the servers affirms, “Our power, our glory increases only so much as we give it away, constantly, only so much as we serve.” This is akin to a Biblical verse which implies, if one would be a great leader, one must be great at serving others. This philosophy is the antithesis of that practiced by politicians who serve themselves first, last and always, a virus that has particularly attacked the former Republican Party known as the Trump MAGAS.
However, like fragments of wisdom and truth which filter in and out of our consciousness, this conversation among the staff as they eat Christina’s delicious food and reference two of Gary Robinson’s books, dissolves into the air, though it is a profound concept that is incredibly current. However, one of the reasons why this wisdom and the astute servers’ conversation comes to a screeching halt is that an audience member interrupts with an important question, akin to “What the hell?”
By this point in time, the fourth wall has been broken twice; first by a vagrant (Erin Markey), who attempted to steal Mina’s laptop, though Mina elicited the help of an audience member to watch it for her when she went to the bathroom, because Ben wasn’t there that day. Luckily, Mina interrupts The Vagrant’s theft and sends her away without the laptop as Mina chides the negligent audience member, who was obedient to the playwright and didn’t tell The Vagrant, “Stop thief!”
The second breaking of the fourth wall is by a disruptive “audience member” (the fine Stephanie Berry), who is “annoyed” and questions the direction of the play defining it as meaningless, unrelated to her life, not current-when the world is burning down, and a waste of the gift of the audience’s time. Joining the other actor/servers onstage, she then discusses what she considers meaningful, her life, and the direction it has taken recently.
Of course, this is humorous and gives way to the notion that audience members’ opinions don’t always jive with theater professionals, though they can make or break them via word of mouth recommendations. Then the playwright forestalls audience opinions about his avant garde, surrealistic, weird work, using Berry as a a mouthpiece when the playwright has her say, “Do you ever get this feeling with young writers, or early writers, writers who are developing….do you ever wonder: when will they develop?” Berry’s audience member excoriates the quality of the play, Staff Meal, addressing the characters and absent playwright before sharing what is relatable to her in her life.
On consideration this surreal vignette works because of Berry’s authentic, spot-on performance which is confessional and makes us empathize with her even more so than with the other vignettes. But then she leaves and Koogler picks up where he left off back to the servers discussing the dwindling clientele and whether or not Robinson is going to close the restaurant down.
Then time and space shift once more. At this point, the servers and the couple have disappeared and the vignette with The Vagrant (Erin Markey) occurs. She explains that she takes on three roles, one of which is the chef, but the segment of The Vagrant involves her living in a hole and trying to acquire laptops so that she can get a job. Ah ha! We have the explanation of The Vagrant attempting to steal Mina’s laptop early on in the play. Eventually, she goes for a job interview and is hired and tells us she lived an extraordinary ordinary life and concludes with her affirmation that the rest of the play is about “how it ended.”
Berry’s audience member returns, warning us that she has been found out to be an artifice, and her role in the play is over, but she notices the weather outside is shifting and becoming ominous. The time has shifted once more and events move toward an unsettling conclusion. However, we do find out what happened to Ben’s dog, after they leave the restaurant without their food or wine. The waiter receives a delectable “staff meal,” Ben and Mina are separated walking home, and The Waiter is left questioning if Christina is still in the restaurant.
At this juncture it’s time to reconsider the audience member/playwright twitting himself about what he’s written. However, the play is more naturalistic in its chaotic, unthreaded, seeming randomness with bits of profound meaning stuffed here and there, like life, perhaps. In that we realize that we make meaning from our own lives, as random and strange as events can sometimes be, which have no rhyme or reason. Indeed, a fictional play with a neat beginning, middle and ending is easy to follow, but is perhaps easily dismissed as fiction. Staff Meal, as surreal as it is, is darkly memorable.
To assist with the sets which dissolve away to a bare stage, Jian Jung’s minimalist scenic design creates a cafe, a kitchen, a restaurant dining room and the dark ominous streets. Additional kudos go to Kaye Voyce’s simple (costume design), though I thought the elaborate costume for The Vagrant was interestingly layered with various “stuff.” Masha Tsimring (lighting design), kept segments toward the end foreboding, and Tei Blow (sound design) and Steve Cuiffo (illusion design), executed Morgan Green’s vision for Staff Meal.
Staff Meal will keep you guessing and wondering and perhaps as annoyed as Stephanie Berry’s Audience Member, trying to find the portal to understanding what’s beyond this unusual restaurant that serves its staff better than its customers. It runs with no intermission at Playwrights Horizons, Peter Jay Sharp Theater, 416 West 42nd Street. https://www.playwrightshorizons.org/shows/plays/staff-meal/
‘Stereophonic,’ Adjmi’s Hit Transfers to Broadway
When Stereophonic opened at Playwright’s Horizons in the fall of 2023, the hybrid comedy/drama/musical was extended a number of times for a multitude of reasons. The acting was superb. The subject matter intrigued. Who is not enthralled by a smooth rock band on the cusp of greatness with a chonky financial contract, “getting their s%$t together,” as a small privileged audience watches them record their artistry in two sound studios? Under pressure, the two couple’s relationships straining, the husband-wife partners display pustules bursting with emotionalism, and the audience sees the interior of these relationships. What’s not to love?
This is live theater at its best. The audience lives moment to moment with the musicians (we have forgotten they are actors), riding to the mountain tops and canyons as we joy to their pain of creation, producing what may be a #1 album that soars to the top of the charts. In its transfer and Broadway premiere at the Golden Theatre, the cast, music, verité style, and arc of development are the same as is the three-hour length as in the original production at Primary Stages. Bravo. It is still a must-see.
Why would playwright David Adjmi (The Evildoers, Stunning), Will Butler, who wrote the terrific original music and lyrics, and superb director Daniel Aukin muck with success? The solid, winning substance of Stereophonic is about the five-member rock band and studio engineers working at an accelerated pace to record an album at two California sound studios in the mid-1970s. We get the “low-down” perspective of what it takes to be great.
Above all Stereophonic Broadway remains a stylistic masterpiece of theater verité with a view into two separate worlds, music creation and technical engineering, without which musicianship would not exist. The meld of the two in a great album reveals the dynamic genius of technicians and musicians, though the musicians are the public face who receive all the glory.
Two points to make about the production, which is integrated and fantastic from my perspective, with one suggestion. First, Stereophonic may not be understood by a “Broadway” type audience, who might not have the patience to work through the incredible detail of “moment to moment” dialogue and complications so organically constructed, intimate and authentic, that the realistic action brings one into oneself, rather than encouraging escapism in a flight of song and dance numbers characteristic of “the Broadway show.” In its brilliance, Stereophonic may not be fully appreciated for what it is. Stereophonic is a “one-of-a-kind” original that provides an electrifying evening of music creation as one would imagine happened in iconic recording studios like Muscle Shoals Sound Studio in Alabama or Abbey Road in London, perhaps, without the histrionics.
Secondly, in its staging at the Golden Theatre, a larger venue, the sound design has to be properly figured out by the designers, and the actors. They are not in a smaller venue. The actors must project, especially when their backs are turned from the audience. The sound design must be at equal level in every portion of the theater to eliminate dead spots. In the transitioning this must continue to be fine tuned.
For rock fans and those fascinated by the ethereal nature of how bands collaborate, the Broadway production mesmerizes because we clearly understand the division between the musicians’ mystical artistry, which is always front and center, and the unseen, faceless, backstage engineering by Grover (Eli Gelb), and Charlie (Andrew R. Butler), who are finally revealed in process. It is the engineers’ artful techniques which enhance the overall effect and impact of each recorded song. This division of the two different realms of making music is beautifully manifested in David Zinn’s wood paneled scenic design, and Jiyoun Chang’s lighting design, which Aukin carried over to Broadway, along with Enver Chakartash’s period costume design. Robert Pickens & Katie Gell’s hair and wig design are new in this production.
As at Primary Stages, the Golden Theatre’s stage is divided into two sections. The upper level reveals the sound studio protected by glass, where we see and hear the musicians perform in a theater verité style, as they stop to revise tempos, add pauses, evolve riffs, etc. Downstage is the massive control panel where the engineers sit mostly with their backs to the audience and work to serve, manipulate, and stoke the musicians’ extraordinary talent and heightened emotional states, all the while discussing “their truth” with each other. With Aukin’s superior staging, we can track both worlds, feeling we are in their midst, interactively participating in music creation and understanding how the worlds precariously interact.
Though band members treat Grover and especially the shy Charlie as invisibles they don’t speak to, without their efforts the band’s unique identity and glorious sound wouldn’t exist. Therefore, in the production’s arc of development, Adjmi gradually uncovers the engineers’ centrality to the creative process and the band’s success. It is especially funny and poignant to witness how the engineers moderate the emotional infantilism of the “high-strung” musicians to get the recordings in top shape.
Throughout, drugs and alcohol become a panacea to quell the rough edges of sleep deprivation and stimulate a frenzied work environment. The cocaine, supplied by overworked engineers, keeps the band working at a frenetic pace. Ironically, drug use intensifies the arguments but floods the band’s creative juices.
Aukin’s vision of Adjmi’s themes of art, music, sacrifice and suffering, heighten the importance of sound engineers. They must have skill and expertise in the control room, as well as the personalities to cope with and manipulate artistic personas like druggy Reg (the hysterical and funny Will Brill), and diva Diana (Sarah Pidgeon).
For example Grover and Charlie must be temperate as Diana strains to get the notes, emotionally loses it, and must be encouraged by her partner lead musician and producer Peter (Tom Pecinka), to try again and again to “get it right.” Additionally, the engineers must be purposed to withstand the emotional word bludgeons from their “boss,” Peter, who launches off into a demeaning tirade against Grover and fires him. It is an idiotic move because Grover is the backbone of the album and Peter knows it. That is why he later makes Grover co-producer and apologizes.
The songs of Will Butler, (Oscar-nominated and former member of the Grammy-winning indie rock band Arcade Fire), remain as striking as ever. Indeed, one would wish that this band does produce an album, finishing the partial songs (we only hear a few in their entirety), that we hear them rehearse. The songs resonate with the themes of emotional yearning and the deceptions of fame, money and commercialism, the masquerade that they must avoid. If they embrace the commercialism, they will lose their way as artists, attempting to achieve perfection, a goal of the hard driving Peter.
Butler’s songs importantly reveal the raw emotions of anger and hurt, stirred by betrayal and loss that couples Reg (Will Brill) and Holly (Juliana Canfield), and Peter and Diana, experience in their relationships. Working frenetically together in close quarters to exceed the results of their previous album require sacrifice to be great. Peter constantly pushes them toward this. But by the conclusion as their work is finished, all have suffered for it. Simon (Chris Stack), who has been away from his wife and children for six months faces the threat of divorce and losing his family.
However, only Diana has been signed on to be a solo artist. Is the pain, suffering and sacrifice worth it for the others? Juliana Canfield’s Holly, a close friend and ally of Diana, congratulates her on this success. But we are left wondering if they will remain close or if the band will remain together to collaborate again?
A tour de force, Stereophonic runs over three hours with one intermission. Thanks to Adjmi, director Daniel Aukin, the sensational cast, whose acting chops and vocal talents are non-pareil, and the technical design team, the compelling forward momentum of the band’s creative dynamic resonates with powerful immediacy.
Special kudos goes to Music Director Justin Craig and Will Butler and Justin Craig’s orchestrations.
Stereophonic runs through July 7 at the Golden Theatre (252 West 45th Street, between Broadway and Eighth Avenue). www.stereophonicplay.com
Athena Film Festival 2024: ‘Fancy Dance’ Panel
Decolonizing the Film Industry: Indigenous Women’s Voices
Athena Film Festival opened last weekend. The premiere women’s film festival in New York City celebrated its 14th year. In previous years, the amazing festival has had ground-breaking, maverick films and speakers like Gloria Steinem, Dolores Huerta, Eve Ensler and many more. Held at Barnard College, the labs, workshops and screening of cutting edge films proved to be exciting and revelatory in showing the direction of trends in women’s stories. Filmmakers, friends and supporters conducted talk backs and conversations, and experienced events that explored what it means to be a woman today among diverse groups.
Fancy Dance was a film I enjoyed seeing. There was a Talk Back afterward with the director and creatives who worked on and supported the award winning film, released in 2023 and screened in festivals around the country. Directed by Erica Tremblay and written by Erica Tremblay and Miciana Alise, Fancy Dance stars Lily Gladstone who has been nominated for an Oscar and received multiple awards from critics’ associations, film festivals and a SAG and Golden Golden award for her amazing performance in Martin Scorsese’s masterwork, Killers of the Flower Moon.
The panel after the screening of Fancy Dance.
Like Lily Gladstone and Erica Tremblay, many of the creatives who worked on the film were Indigenous woman and men. The story and themes revolve around Lily Gladstone’s character, Jax, a queer indigenous woman, who must confront her sister’s disappearance, while she lives and takes care of Roki (Isabel Delroy-Olson). Together Jax and Roki struggle to hustle money and at the top of the film we note that Jax with Roki as her accomplice steals a vehicle and drives it to a chop shop for a nominal amount of money. Tremblay, eschews political correctness in her portraiture of Jax and Roki who is not above stealing from a convenience store furtively picking and choosing items she likes while Jax picks up some supplies.
The film combines many elements and is a combination mystery, thriller, road trip and ultimately family drama as Jax deals with having to give up care of Roki to her white father and stepmother. The situation becomes problematic when her grandparents refuse to take Roki to the state powwow where Jax has obfuscated that her mom will be because she is a great dancer.
During the panel discussion which encompassed how the film was made, Tremblay discussed writing the characterizations specifically to go against the stereotyped “Indians” who vie between stoic, noble savages who are guardians of the lands vs. thieves, deceivers and killers who will stab white people in the face. Tremblay intentionally characterized Jax having a record. She steals and hustles money from those she can dupe, as does Roki. And the theme of trafficking indigenous women like her sister, who sell themselves to oil riggers or other temporary workers and then are abused sexually-which most probably happened to Jax’s sister, is highlighted in the film.
Tremblay discussed how indigenous creatives work together and supported each other’s films. When Gladstone worked with her, it was before Killers of the Flower Moon and her performance took off. Then after Tremblay couldn’t get distribution, she and her team slowly applied to film festivals (Outfest LA 2023, Sundance 2023, Hamptons International Festival 2023, etc.) where they won awards for Gladstone’s performance and Tremblay’s overall artistry, Best Narrative feature. By that point Gladstone received rave notices for her performance in Killers of the Flower Moon, and Tremblay persisted. Finally after about a year of struggling, trial and error leaping over distributors who couldn’t see a way to funding the film, Tremblay was thrilled that Apple+TV picked it up.
Tremblay said that Apple+TV was ideal because she wanted the film to have a wide viewership and Apple+TV’s streaming platform was exceptional. Rather than to have it appear in theaters for a week (that could be accomplished by submitting it to film festivals) and would be there and gone before most people saw it, a streaming service would offer it indefinitely.
Panel members affirmed that the indigenous film community networked and stayed upbeat and supported each other, especially during the dark times when they needed to raise money for payroll and then were at a loss about anyone picking up distribution. Tremblay and the others were hopeful about films about indigenous women in the future. Tremblay was working on seeing more humor in indigenous film, to break the stereotype of the remote, cold, unemotional “Indian” which she didn’t quite escape with her Jax character.
See Fancy Dance distributed on Apple+TV. Read my review on Blogcritics https://blogcritics.org/athena-film-festival-review-fancy-dance/
Susan Stroman Interview by Broadway Playwright Sharon Washington
On Friday, November 17th The League of Professional Theatre Women is sponsoring a free event at the Bruno Walter Auditorium at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts at Lincoln Center (111 Amsterdam Avenue at 65th Street, New York). The public is invited to this special interview of Tony Award winning Director/Choreographer Susan Stroman about her brilliant career by Broadway Playwright Sharon Washington, at 6 p.m.
The event, which is open to the public, is part of the League of Professional Theatre Women’s (LPTW) Oral History Project in partnership with the Library and is a highlight of LPTW’s 41st season.
Susan Stroman, Director/Choreographer is a five-time Tony Award winning director and choreographer known for the Broadway musicals Crazy for You, Contact, The Scottsboro Boys, and The Producers. She is the winner of a record-making 12 Tony Awards including Best Direction and Best Choreography. Her work has been honored with Olivier, Drama Desk, Outer Critics Circle, Lucille Lortel, and a record six Astaire Awards.
For Broadway, she most recently directed and choreographed the new Kander & Ebb musical New York, New York and directed the new play POTUS: Or, Behind Every Great Dumbass Are Seven Women Trying to Keep Him Alive. This season in London’s West End, she directed and choreographed the revival of Crazy for You at the Gillian Lynne Theatre. Other Broadway credits include: Show Boat, Prince of Broadway, Bullets Over Broadway, Big Fish, Oklahoma!, Young Frankenstein, Thou Shalt Not, The Music Man, Big, The Frogs, and Steel Pier.
Off-Broadway she directed and choreographed Little Dancer, The Beast in the Jungle, Dot, Flora the Red Menace, And the World Goes ‘Round, Happiness, The Last Two People on Earth: An Apocalyptic Vaudeville, as well as The Merry Widow for The Metropolitan Opera. She has created ballets for New York City Ballet, Pacific Northwest Ballet, and Martha Graham. She received the American Choreography Award for her work in Columbia Pictures feature film Center Stage. She is the recipient of the George Abbott Award for Lifetime Achievement in the American Theater and an inductee of the Theater Hall of Fame in New York City. www.SusanStroman.com
Sharon Washington, Playwright/Actor was nominated for a 2023 Tony Award for Best Book of a Musical as co-writer of New York New York. She made her debut as playwright with her solo play Feeding The Dragon which played Off-Broadway at Primary Stages and was nominated for Outer Critics, Lortel and Audelco Awards. She was the Primary Stages 2017-18 Tow Foundation Playwright-in-Residence. The play was recorded as an Audible Original and selected as an Audible Essentials Top 100 pick.
As an actor, last summer Sharon was seen as Queen Margaret in the Public Theater/Shakespeare in the Park production of Richard III, broadcast on PBS Great Performances. Recent film and television appearances include Power Book III: Raising Kanan, Bull;the short film Birdwatching co-starring Amanda Seyfried, and the Academy-Award winning Joker. You may also recognize her voice as the narrator of several documentary series for Animal Planet, Discovery and NOVA.
On Broadway Sharon appeared in The Scottsboro Boys musical. Off-Broadway credits include Dot (Vineyard Theater); Wild with Happy (Public Theater/NYSF – Lucille Lortel nomination and Audelco Award among many others; and numerous regional theaters around the country.
Sharon holds an MFA from the Yale School of Drama and a BA from Dartmouth College.
To attend this event, please RSVP at this link: https://www.nypl.org/events/programs/2023/11/17/league-professional-theatre-women-susan-stroman
‘Jaja’s African Hair Braiding,’ Hysterical, Fun, Profound
Jaja’s African Hair Braiding by Jocelyn Bioh in its world premiere at the Manhattan Theatre Club (Samuel J. Friedman Theatre), is a rollicking comedy with an underlying twist that, by the conclusion, turns as serious as a heart attack. Bioah’s characters are humorous, quick studies that deliver the laughs effortlessly because of Bioah’s crisp, dialogue and organic, raw themes about relationships, community, female resilience and the symbolism of hair braiding which brings it all together.
The setting is in Harlem, at Jaja’s Hair Salon where African hair braiding and the latest styles are offered. For those white gals and guys who envy the look of long lovely extensions but are too afraid to don them, it is understandable. You have to have a beautiful face to sustain the amazing, freeing look of long braided tresses that you can fling with a gentle or wild toss, evoking any kind of emotion you wish.
During the course of the play, we watch fascinated at the seamless ease with which the actors work their magic, transforming otherwise unremarkable women into jaunty, confident and powerful owners of their own dynamic presentation. While we are distracted by the interplay of jokes and mild insults and gossip, the fabulous shamans weave and work it.
In one instance, Miriam (the fine Brittany Adebumola) takes the entire day to metamorphose her client Jennifer (the exceptional Rachel Christopher). Jennifer comes into the shop appearing staid, conservative and reserved with short cropped hair that does nothing for her. But once in Miriam’s chair, something happens beyond a simple hairdo change.
After MIriam is finished discussing her life back in Sierra Leone, which includes the story of her impotent, lazy husband, her surprise pregnancy and birth of her daughter by a gorgeous and potential future husband, and her divorce from the “good-for-nothing”, paternalistic former one, Jennifer is no longer. Miriam has effected the miraculous during her talk. Jennifer has become her unique self with her lovely new look. As she tosses her head back, we note Jennifer’s posture difference, as she steps into the power of how good she looks. Additionally, because of Miriam’s artistry, Jennifer is the proud receptor of a new understanding and encouragement. She has witnessed Miriam’s courage to be open about her life. If Miriam can be courageous, so can she.
Jennifer leaves more confident than before having taken part in the community of caring women who watch each other’s backs and hair, which by now has taken on additional symbolic meaning. Incredibly, Miriam works on Jennifer’s braids the entire play. However, what Jennifer has gained will go with her forever. The dynamic created between the storyteller, Miriam, and the listener, Jennifer, is superb and engages the audience to listen and glean every word they share with each other.
On one level, a good part of the fun and surprise of the production rests with Bioh’s gossipy, earthy, forthright characters, who don’t hold back about various trials they are going through involving men, who exploit them. Nor do they remain reticent if they think one of their braiding colleagues has been surreptitiously stealing their clients, as Bea accuses Ndidi of doing in a hysterical rant
Another aspect of the humor deals with the various clients who come in. Kalyne Coleman and Lakisha May each play three roles as six different clients. They are nearly unrecognizable for their differences in appearances. They change voices, gestures, clothing, mien, carriage and more. For each of these different individuals, they come in with one look and attitude and leave more confident, happier and lovelier than before.
Portraying three vendors and James, Michael Oloyede is hysterically current. Onye Eme-Akwari and Morgan Scott are the actors in the funny Nollywood Film Clip that Ndidi imitates.
For women, hair is key. Bad hair days are not just a bad joke, they are a catastrophe. Bioh capitalizes on this embedded social, cultural more. Presenting its glories, she reveals the symbolism of “extensions,” and “new appearances” as they relate to uplifting the spirit and soul of women who are required to look gorgeous.
Above all, Bioh elevates the artists whose gifted hands enliven, regenerate, encourage and empower their clients. Along with Miriam (Brittany Adebumola), these include Ndidi (Maechi Aharanwa), Aminata (Nana Mensah) and Bea (Zenzi Williams). Sitting in their chairs, under their protection, trusting their skills at beautification, we recognize the splendid results, not only physically in some instances but emotionally and psychically.
The only one who isn’t an African braiding artist is Marie (Dominique Thorne). She is helping out her mother Jaja (Somi Kakoma), who owns the salon and who is getting married that day, so she can get her green card for herself and Marie. Jaja who appears briefly in wedding garb to share her excitement and happiness with the women who are her friends, then goes to the civil judge to be married. However, Marie can’t be happy for her mother. Likewise, neither can old friend Bea, who has told the others the man Jaja is marrying is not to be trusted.
Nevertheless, the point is clear. Within the shop there are artists who are working their way toward citizenship. And Miriam is saving money to bring her daughter to the US. Though Bioh doesn’t belabor the immigration issues, but instead, lets us fall in love with her warm, wonderful characters, it is a huge problem for the brilliant Marie, who has been rejected from attending some of the best colleges. Her immigration status is in limbo as a “Dreamer.”
And like other immigrants, she is living her life on hold in a waiting game that is nullifying as well as demeaning because, as Jaja points out repeatedly to her, she can be a doctor or anything she wants. Her daughter, Marie, is brilliant, ambitious and hard working. Taking over the African hair braiding salon is not good enough. She can do exploits. But without a green card, she can do nothing.
Directed by Whitney White whose vision for the play manifests the sensitivity of a fine tuned violin, the play soars and gives us pause by the conclusion. The technical, artistic elements cohere with the overall themes that show the hair salon is a place of refuge for women to commiserate, dig deep and express their outrage and jealousies, then be forgiven and accepted, after a time. It is a happy, busy, brightly hued and sunny environment to grow and seek comfort in.
David Zinn’s colorful, specific scenic design helps to place this production on the map of the memorable, original and real. This salon is where one enjoys being, even though some of the characters snipe and roll their eyes at each other. Likewise, Dede Ayite’s costume design beautifully manifests the characters and represents their inner workings and outer “brandings.” From her costumes, one picks up cues as to the possibilities of what’s coming next, which isn’t easy as the production’s arc of development is full of surprises.
Importantly, Nikiya Mathis’ hair & wig design is the star of the production. How the braiding is done cleverly with wigs so that it appears that the process takes hours (it does) is perfect. Of course the styles are fabulous.
Kudos to the rest of the creative team which includes Jiyoun Chang (lighting design), Justin Ellington (original music & sound design), Stefania Bulbarella (video design), Dawn-Elin Fraser (dialect & vocal coach).
This is one to see for its acting, direction, themes and its profound conclusion which is unapologetic and searingly current. Bioah has hit Jaja’s African Hair Braiding out of the park. She has given Whitney White, the actors and the creatives a blank slate where they can enjoy manifesting their talents in bringing this wonderful show to life. It is 90 minutes with no intermission and the pacing is perfect. The actors don’t race through the dialogue but allow it to unfold naturally and with precision, humor and grace.
For tickets go to the Box Office on 47th Street between 7th and 8th Avenues or their website https://www.manhattantheatreclub.com/shows/2023-24-season/jajas-african-hair-braiding/?utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&gclid=CjwKCAjwvfmoBhAwEiwAG2tqzDaZkpYxm9EVbEs9yQ0hCPDF5gTyx9a8iy4yFCkwZxfd3skrmdD8oxoCAfgQAvD_BwE
‘The Saviour,’ a Tour de Force at the Irish Repertory Theatre
The Saviour, a powerful, ironic character expose, written by Deirdre Kinahan and directed by Louise Lowe, presents the wonderful Marie Mullen in a performance which strikes at the heart of Catholicism, paternalistic culture and hypocrisy. The World Premiere by Landmark Production is being performed on the Francis J. Greenburger Mainstage at the Irish Repertory Theatre until August 13.
Kinahan begins her 70 minute play as Marie Mullen’s Máire resides in bed enjoying a “fag” (cigarette) and laughing to herself at what has just transpired with Martin. She expresses her enthusiasm and joy to her great confidante Jesus, whom she addresses for half of the play.
The audience is shocked into laughter at the unexpected subject matter of her descriptions. Máire (thanks to Joan O’Clery’ costume design), is the opposite of a woman that others might describe as a “dolled-up floozy,” generous with her affections and body. The protagonist is a senior citizen. Her environs and bedroom are neither opulent nor well-appointed thanks to Ciarán Bagnall’s scenic and lighting design. The sets on a revolving platform of bedroom and kitchen are a clue to her financial situation.
In other words, Máire is not the type to be taken advantage of for her money or what she has which looks to be the stylized bare minimum of possessions. Thus, she must be taken at her word, or she is completely fantasizing the circumstance with Martin, who, like Jesus, remains invisible. She is an unreliable narrator, so we are left guessing about the truth of the present circumstance she describes.
Louise Lowe’s acute direction shepherds’ Mullen’s fabulous performance as Máire to lead the audience in wonder, enthralled in the grip of hearing about Máire’s relationship with Martin as she discusses it with Jesus.
As Máire waits for Martin to come upstairs with her coffee, she glories that it is her birthday and she celebrated a wonderful evening with Martin who shopped and cooked for her and appreciates her more than her husband who died years before. Indeed, Martin even appreciates her more than her children, who are now grown and have children of their own. She reviews the circumstances of her life with Jesus in light of her relationship with Martin. She believes that her relationship with “the saviour” is somehow in concert with her Godly interactions with Martin, because he prays, believes in God, goes to church and wouldn’t be with her if Jesus didn’t accept him.
Kinahan’s characterization of Máire, effected through Mullen’s interpretation, is completely believable, especially when she speaks to Jesus as if He is her “all in all.”
As the monologue continues, we question the reality of what Máire shares with Jesus with regard to Martin who is shadowy and mysterious. Is it true or isn’t it? However, we do accept her discussion with Jesus about her devastating upbringing. This includes the death of her mother, and her father’s abandonment. He left her with the nuns where she is abused and made to work in the oppressive, hot “laundry.”
The reference is perhaps to the Magdalene Laundries in Ireland, run by the nuns and Roman Catholic orders to give shelter to “fallen women” from poor backgrounds. To punish them with proper penance and hide their shame, parents sent them to these asylums which were secretive and oppressive. Exploiting the girls’ labor, they offered little emotional respite from condemnation. Sadly, the babies born out of wedlock were taken away from their birth mothers and adopted out by the nuns for donations.
As in the case of Máire, orphaned girls were placed there so they could be properly raised by the goodly nuns. However, as Máire indicates, her situation was equally terrible, not because she “sinned,” but because poverty relegated her to a life of misery of hellish toil and fear with the nuns at a young age.
It is during this discussion of the laundry, whose atmosphere and terror is effected by Aoife Kavanagh’s crushing sound design (as Máire recalls her past), that she reveals her only salvation was her faith in Jesus. She refers to “her loving Jesus” as not the “nuns’, Jesus.” Her Jesus helps her survive the nuns’ cruelty, condemnation and judgment until she manages to free herself with a job. And it is then she meets her husband with whom she has a loving relationship and family.
Marie Mullen’s is absolutely terrific in animating Máire and establishing Jesus as a “living” being with whom she shares the most intimate of secrets. Mullen’s authenticity is spot-on. We accept how Jesus affirms Máire’s life to receive this new beginning in her relationship with Martin. Though there doesn’t appear to be a conflict, the dramatic dynamic unfolds in earnest when son Mel (the superb Jamie O’Neill) appears. He brings her a present (a doll which has symbolic significance), to celebrate her birthday.
Her relationship with Mel seems loving enough, until Máire’s behavior references Martin’s visit. It is then that they make statements which explode with revelation and meaning in a myriad of emotions including anger, torment and hate. Both mother and son hurt one another. Their comments are severe. No apologies can be made to salve the wounds. We question where is forgiveness? Where is Jesus? Where is love? All appears to be confusion, fear and obfuscation.
Kinahan’s dialogue cleverly builds as Mel and Máire turn to the undercurrents of the past. Clearly, we understand the impact the church has had upon them. After Mel leaves, Máire must grapple with what the truths may be and either confront and accept them, or reject them finding justifications. Ironically, this leaves the audience in uncertainty with more questions which are never answered.
Kinahan’s suspenseful events beautifully build toward the high point at the conclusion. The mesmerizing play is directed and acted to perfection. Thematically, the characters’ acceptance of lies as truth and their ability to be duped by “isms,” philosophies and trends is incredibly current. Mel uses the truth to bludgeon his mother which appears vengeful. On the other hand, Máire selects which truths to believe and which to reject, hypocritically.
Both son and mother are flawed. Both need redemption and love from each other. Both have been caught in a web of religion, either rejecting/rebelling against it, or embracing it but not in the fullness of its meaning. As a result, caught up in their own agendas, they cannot communicate to use the very tenets of faith that are supposed to heal, bring peace and redeem. This is a terrible, magnificent irony where Jesus is called upon, but never arrives to heal and mend the differences. Additional work must be done for that to occur.
Unfortunately, this is a story visited again and again in religious households. It is thematically universal. Kinahan, Lowe, the actors and creatives have expressively highlighted the conundrums of faith, hypocrisy, forgiveness, spiritual truth and condemnation in this amazing and unforgettable production. It is a must-see.
For tickets and times go to their website https://irishrep.org/show/2022-2023-season/the-saviour/
‘The Sign in Sidney Brustein’s Window,’ Lorraine Hansberry’s Mastery of Ideas in a Superb Production
Oscar Isaac’s Sidney Brustein in Lorraine Hansberry’s most ambitious play, The Sign in Sidney Brustein’s Window (directed by Anne Kauffman) never catches a break. Hansberry’s everyman layman’s intellectual is in pursuit of expressing his creative genius and achieving exploits he can be proud of. When we meet him at the top of Hansberry’s masterpiece, which is full of sardonic wisdom, sage philosophy and political realism, Sidney is a flop looking for a reprieve. This revival, first produced on Broadway in 1964, was tightened for this Broadway revival (one noticeable end sequence with Gloria was shaved, not to the play’s betterment). Currently running at the James Earl Jones Theatre with one intermission, the production boasts the same stellar cast in its transfer from its sold out run at BAM’s Harvey Theatre in Brooklyn. The production is in a limited run, ending in July.
It is to the producers’ credit that they risked bringing the play to a Broadway audience, who may not be used to the complications, the numerous thematic threads, the actualized brilliance of unique characterizations and their interrelationships, and Hansberry’s overall indictment of the culture and society. Sign is a companion piece to her award-winning Raisin in the Sun. It explores the root causes why the Younger family is where it is socially and economically. Vitally, it examines the political underpinnings of institutional oppression and discrimination via reform movements, symbolized by the efforts of Brustein and friends who promote the reform candidacy of Wally O’Hara.
To focus her indictment of the perniciousness of political and social oppression, Hansberry examines the vanguard of reformists, Greenwich Village artists, activists and journalists who are emotionally/philosophically ready to make social/economic change of the type that the Younger family in Raisin in the Sun yearns for. However, these Greenwich Village mavericks are the least equipped tactically to sidestep co-optation and the political cynicism of the power-brokers. They realize too late that the money men will fight them to the death to maintain a status quo which inevitably destroys the vulnerable and keeps families like the Youngers and drug addict Willie Johnson struggling to survive.
The Sign in Sidney Brustein’s Window is timeless in its themes and its characterizations. When we measure it in light of current social trends, it is fitting that the play transcends the history of the 1960s in its prescience and reveals political tropes we experience today. Additionally, it suggests how far society has declined to the point where cultural and political co-optation (a principal theme) have been institutionalized via media that skews the truth unwittingly. The result is that large swaths of our nation remain oblivious to their exploitation and dehumanization, ignorant that they are the pawns of political parties, who promise reform then deliver regression. In short they, like Sidney Brustein and his friends, are seduced to hope in a better world that reform politicians say they will deliver. But when they win, through a plurality of votes from a diverse population, they renege on their promises and continue to do what their “owners” want, which is to “screw” the little people and deprive them of power and a “place at the table.”
Hansberry’s setting of Greenwich Village is specifically selected as one of the hottest, most forward-thinking, “happening” areas in the nation. Brustein’s apartment is the focal point where we meet representative types of those found in sociopolitical/cultural reform movements. His community of friends are activists who believe their friend and candidate Wally O’Hara (Andy Grotelueschen), is positioned to overturn the Village’s entrenched “political machine.” Sidney, reeling from his bankrupted club, which characterized his cultural/intellectual ethos (idealistically named Walden Pond after Henry David Thoreau’s book), purchases a flagging newspaper (The Village Crier) to once again indulge his passion for creative expression. He does this unbeknownst to his wife Iris (Rachel Brosnahan), a budding second-wave feminist who waitresses to support them financially. She chafes at her five-year marriage to Sidney, shaking off his definitions and the identities he places on her, one of which is his “Mountain Girl.”
Activist and theoretical Communist (separated from the genocidal Stalinist despotism) Alton (Julian De Niro), drops in with O’Hara to encourage Sidney to join the crusade to elect O’Hara with the Crier’s endorsement. Sidney declaims their persuasive rhetoric and assures them that he will never get involved in political activism again. However, as events progress, his attitude changes. We note his friends, including artist illustrator Max (Raphael Nash Thompson), stir him to support O’Hara with his excellent articles. Sidney, mocked by Iris about his failures, is swept up in the campaign. When he hangs a large sign in his window that endorses O’Hara, his adherence to push a win for the “champion of the people” increases in fervency.
The sign symbolizes his hope and his seduction into the world of misguided activism, but its meaning changes over the course of the play. Hansberry doesn’t reveal the exact moment that Sidney decides to take up the “losing cause” after he disavowed it. However, his fickle nature and passion to be enmeshed in something “significant” with his friends helps to sway him.
In the first acts of the play, Hansberry introduces us to the players and reveals the depth of her characterizations as each of the characters widens their arc of development by the conclusion. We note the development of Mavis (Miriam Silverman), Iris’ uptown, bourgeois, housewife sister, who is married to a prosperous husband and is raising two sons. We also meet David Ragin (Glenn Fitzgerald), the Brustein’s gay, nihilistic, absurdist playwright friend, who lives in the apartment above theirs and is on the verge of success. Both Mavis and David, like Sidney’s other friends, twit him about Walden Pond’s failure. Mavis and Iris are antithetical in values and Mavis views her sister and brother-in-law as Bohemian specimens to be observed and secretly derided as entertainment. We discover Mavis’ bigotry when she opposes the union of their sister Gloria (Gus Birney), a high class call girl, to Alton, the young light-skinned Black friend.
The genius of this work is in Hansberry’s dialogue and the intricacies of the characterizations. It is as if Hansberry spins them like tops and enjoys the trajectory she creates for them, which ultimately is surprising and sensitively drawn. Organically driven by their own desires, we follow Sidney and Iris’ family machinations, pegged against the backdrop of a political campaign that could redefine each of their lives so that they could better fulfill their dreams and purpose. However, the campaign never rises to the sanctity of what a true democratic, civic, body politic should be. Indeed, the political system has been usurped in a surreptitious coup that the canny voter “pawns” are clueless about.
Tragically, instead of political power being used to combat the destructive forces Hansberry outlines, some of which are discrimination, drugs, law-enforcement corruption, economic inequity and other issues that impact the Brustein’s and their friends’ lives, O’Hara and his handlers have other plans. But first, they cleverly convince the voters a win is unlikely and they pump them up to believe in the possibility of an O’Hara success that would be earth-shattering and revolutionary. This, we discover later, is a canard. The “revolutionary coup” can never occur because the political hacks control everything, including Sidney’s paper which they exploit to foment support for O’Hara. How Hansberry gradually reveals this process and ties it in with the relationships-between Iris and Sidney, Alton and Gloria, Iris and Mavis and the other friends-is a fabric woven moment by moment through incredible dialogue that pops with quips, peasant philosophy, seasoned wisdom, and brilliant moments that evanesce all too quickly.
By the conclusion, the solidity of the characters’ hopes we’ve seen in the beginning have been dashed to fold in on themselves. Both Iris and Sidney learn to reevaluate their relationship with each other and their misapplication of self-actualization, which allowed a tragedy to happen. Likewise, Alton’s inflexibility about his own approach to his place in an exclusionary, oppressive culture ends up contributing to a tragedy that might have been prevented. In one way or another, these characters particularly, along with David’s self-absorbed nihilism, contribute to Gloria’s death.
Symbolically, Hansberry points out that love and concern for other human beings is paramount. Too often, relatives, friends and cultural influences contribute to daily tragedies because human nature’s weaknesses in “missing the signs” contort such love and service to others. Ironically, politics, whose idealized mission should be to reform and make the culture more humane, decent and caring, is often hijacked by the powerful for their own agendas to produce money and more power and control. The resulting misery and every day tragedies accumulate until there is recognition, and the fight begins to overcome the malevolent, retrograde forces that O’Hara and his cronies represent.
This, Sidney vows to do with his paper and Iris’ help in a powerful speech to O’Hara proclaiming a key theme. To be alive and not spiritually, soulfully dead, one must be against the O’Haras of the world and the forces of corruption. To support them is to support death and dead things. To recognize how the power-brokers peddle death, one must discern their lies and avoid being lured into their desperate cycle of destruction, which they control to keep the populace oppressed, hopeless and suicidal.
The actors’ ensemble work is superior. Both Isaac and Brosnahan set each other off with authenticity. Miriam Silverman as Mavis hits all the ironies of the self-deprecating housewife, who has suppressed her own tragedies to carry on. And Julian De Niro’s speech about why he cannot love or marry Gloria is a powerhouse of cold, calculating, but wounded rationality. Hansberry has crafted complex, nuanced human beings and the actors have filled their shoes to effect their emotional core in a moving, insightful production that startles and awakens.
The play must be seen for its actors, direction, and the coherent artistic team, which perfectly effects the director’s vision for this production. These artists include dots (scenic design), Brenda Abbandandolo (costume design), John Torres (lighting design), Bray Poor (sound design), and Leah Loukas (hair & wig design).
This must-see production runs under three hours. For tickets and times go to their website https://thesignonbroadway.com/
‘Prima Facie,’ Jodie Comer’s Tour de Force is a Must-See
One receives a stunning, thematic walk-away from Suzie Miller’s Prima Facie, directed by Justin Martin, currently at the Golden Theatre for a limited engagement. Prima Facie (the Latin legal term means on the face of it), stars the inimitable Jodie Comer in a well-heeled, solo performance. She won the U.K.’s Olivier Award for her portrayal of the assertive, successful, high-powered barrister, Tessa Ensler, who adores the rules of the law with an almost religious fervor. How Comer, the director and Miller effect Tessa’s roller-coaster ride toward hell, engaging the audience so you can hear a pin drop, reveals their prodigious talents. In Prima Facie, they’ve created a thematically complex production of theatricality and moment.
Though there are gaps in the play, Cormer’s performance bestrides them and raises numbing, thematic, rhetorical questions. Initially, the answers escape us, as we become involved in Tessa’s journey toward personal revelation. The strength of the play is in the slow arc of character development, which Cormer senses in her bones and conveys with power and flexibility, as she draws us in to Tessa’s plight. Her vocal and emotional breadth are superb and wide-ranging. Comer’s near-flawless expose, starkly pinpoints Tessa’s confession and admission of repeated self-betrayal and unwise decision-making. How Tessa is prompted to self-destruction by the patriarchal culture’s influence, confounds us. However, the audience cycles through the nullifying events she experiences and gradually becomes enlightened to her devastation.
From the top of the play, through to Miller’s characterization and Cormer’s sometimes breezy, dualistic, self-satisfied and impassioned recounting of her success as a defense barrister, we note she plays to win against the tricks of the police and the tactics of the prosecution. Her metaphoric descriptions are humorous. She is a winner at the law, always up for social justice, jumping into challenging cases against the prosecution. We learn many of the cases are for sexual assault, which she defends her clients against to “get the criminals off,” as her mother suggests. Blindly, with her own rational justifications, Tessa has greedily internalized the patriarchy’s folkways and legal mores. She believes herself immune as a barrister in a justice system, which she thrillingly and ferociously advocates. It is a game to her. She humorously pegs herself as a thoroughbred in a race, during which she expertly uses her strategies to anger, lure and upend the prosecution’s witnesses, who can’t “see her coming.”
Believing herself to be in control, she succeeds in becoming a star defense barrister, who wins her cases for her male clients. That she is a dupe, and a puppet female that the legal system has cultivated to perpetuate its entrenched hierarchy and male-informed justice, she only awakens to when she herself falls prey to assault. Too late, she becomes like the female victims she shreds, victimizes and makes look guilty on the witness stand to benefit her male clients. As Cormer and Miller subtly reveal, Tessa has been riven asunder by her desires to best the upper class barristers she competes against. To do this, she must take on their most obnoxious of attributes and suppress her true identity as the attractive, vulnerable, learned, emotional woman, who desires love and a relationship with a guy.
Thus, like most women in the patriarchal culture, she must negotiate two selves and protect both from each other. Importantly, she must not allow the predominance of one over the other in a blood sacrifice to “rise to the top,” or be the handmaiden of a partner, supporting him financially, if he is a slacker. Worse, she must not couple up with another barrister as ferocious as herself in a competitive, combative relationship. Nor must she throw down her career to wrap herself in the “lesser roles” of housewife, mother, wife, while her partner enjoys the power and amenities (sexual peccadilloes) his career may offer. However, as Cormer and Miller portray Tessa, the “feminine” side is not tended to, so it erupts when a guy lures her away from her career identity.
Interestingly, to convey the mystery of this inner conflict, which Tessa ignores, Miller sanitizes Tessa’s descriptions and removes gender references, when discussing her cases as “the barrister.” She doesn’t use names. Instead, she employs legal terms. Objectification and impersonalization are paramount. Cormier’s Tessa internalizes the abusive male folkways and embraces them because she is in a position of power. She doesn’t realize that she is a dehumanized robot, exploited by the patriarchy precisely because she is a woman defending men (a supreme irony). Just like the guys she competes with, she is all about the legal game and winning the race. We understand that the police predominately are males, and she bests them and her male barrister colleagues. One she excels against is Julian, who ruefully comments on her repeated success.
Occasionally, a clue is given. Her upper class friend, who started law school with her, drops out and becomes an actress. Tessa is the one in three, who makes it because of her persistence, brilliance and aggressiveness against all comers. Indeed, the very attributes that are rewarded in the legal profession are more masculine than feminine. That she has chosen to defend males against females in a crass exploitation of her skills is pointed out by a female colleague, who questions her.
Though her colleague intends to bring Tessa to enlightenment, Tessa describes how she conveniently ignores the question which hits us over the head with its answer. Apparently, Tessa doesn’t mind that her position is being undermined by defending men in cases against women. Nose to the grindstone, she aggressively succeeds, and all should get out of her way. The undaunted barrister personality proves she is the best and “fits right in.” However, there is the suppressed side of her personality, where she can’t compete with “all comers,” and she will never fit in. She can’t compete with males in their gender antics. She can’t behave like men sexually because the standards are different for men and women. Such traditions and double standards die hard.
There’s the rub. Women are still oppressed by the ancient folkways that manifest in sub rosa male and female attitudes. These egregiously include the notions that men are not “whores,” they’re just good ole boys, having fun. After all, boys will be boys. On the other hand, women are referred to as “sluttish” according to double standards. Thus, a woman’s response to sexual assault can be easily confounded by the legal questioning in a system that “doesn’t get how females respond and freeze,” when they are sexually assaulted. The legal interrogation system that allows for only one word answers is oriented toward the masculine. If there is fuzzy thinking and confusion on the stand, it means intentional obfuscation and guilt. The legal system’s foundation is historically entrenched in preeminent male beliefs, behaviors and attitudes, integral to its structure of obtaining justice for the accused. This is especially so when the charge is a gender crime against women.
The event that turns Tessa’s world upside down and opens her understanding is her non-consensual rape by a colleague with whom she previously was intimate. The legal parameters of justice indicate that non-consensual sex is the red line beyond which no partner can go, because it involves force and pushing oneself on the autonomy of another. Tessa ends up in a situation with barrister Julian making one bad decision after another that she knows will make her appear guilty. In effect, she is making herself the victim, but can’t stop herself. In applying the law to her own behavior, she realizes her mistakes, however, she decides to press charges against Julian. Despite knowing she should wait for a female officer, who will understand from a female perspective, she relates what happened to a male officer in charge. She knows what to do, but does the opposite, time again during this experience with Julian to seek justice.
We follow Tessa’s story from one sequence of events after another, during Tessa’s two year waiting period to eventually get into the courtroom and testify on her own behalf. As she faces Julian and the defense barrister colleague realizing what’s coming, she is shocked. The entire courtroom of officials is filled with men. She is the only woman. And it is there that the tactics she strategically, confidently, aggressively used against females to defend her male clients, now are employed against her. She becomes her own victim. By her own barrister standards, she realizes she is guilty. However, she is not on trial, Julian is.
In her final self-betrayal, the internalized patriarchy of justice must release Julian as an innocent. There is one guilty person, the woman, who somehow is lying and magically fabricating that a non-consensual rape occurred. Because of her fuzzy and at times confused, frozen responses, she raises doubt that a rape occurred. Thus, victimizing herself, she turns the barrister Tessa against her female identity, and is guilty. The prosecution loses the case to Julian, who she victimized with her accusation.
In an interesting turn, Tessa is able to express her feelings. She addresses the court absent the jury and finds her voice. Cormer rises to the occasion during the courtroom scenes she effects. She is especially powerful in her indictment of a patriarchal legal system established for the betterment of males, particularly those who have money and are in the upper class.
In her concluding salvo to the audience, tears streaming down her face, Comer’s Tessa adjures wistfully that “something must change.” Though we agree, after her revelations, the self-absorbed, anti-climactic assertion rings hollow. Indeed! She must change. She must stop internalizing “the perfection” of male folkways, which historically have destroyed women. She must resign from her position of defending men in sexual assault cases. She must negotiate the balance in her personality. She must not allow “the barrister” to predominate and harm the feminine Tessa, mistakenly applying male double standards to her personal life. She must not forget her gender places upon her an unforgiving female ideal of perfection and purity, she must adhere to. Ironically, there is no move to understand that she must transform herself to bring about the change that she seeks. This irony needed to be emphasized in the staging, which at times is lacking in pointing up the dualism in her character.
However, Cormer’s plaintive cry reveals her regret, which is a self-betrayal and utter confusion at finding herself where she is in her life. She has backed herself into a corner. If she leaves the profession after losing the case, the patriarchy will have won. If she stays and continues to defend men, as she has done before to “put the terrible events behind her,” the patriarchy will have won. If she moves to the prosecution side, she will no longer be “the star” at the top of the ladder. She is left broken and crying at her self-entrapment in the stunning irony as the stage lights dim. The effect is numbing. What did we just see? Her generalized cry for change lacks impact and force. However, her tearful regrets are the first step in a long process of self-correction, which may lead to social reform.
Miller’s thematic “call to arms” is clear. Every woman in the audience must change internally. They must uproot every internalized desire of the patriarchy which defines them and denies them. They must define themselves. They must not believe the lie they can compete with men as Tessa attempted to compete and allowed herself to be duped and exploited. Sadly, in the attempt to compete women internalize folkways that necessitate their own co-optation that leads to self-harm.
Miller’s point about the judicial system concerning rape and sexual abuse is thought-provoking. Only with protests might the legal system be reformed to accommodate the female perspective about rape to use a different form of questioning that drives to the truth. But the underlying folkways that have been seething for millennia and are global in scope must be dealt with. If not, men will continue to conquer, divide and co-opt to undermine women. They are incredibly practiced at it. This is especially so with regard to institutional misogyny that is subverted/invisible because it is inherent in the structures men have created to maintain privilege and power.
Kudos to Miriam Buether (set & costume designer), Natasha Chivers (lighting designer), Ben & Max Ringham (sound designers), Rebecca Lucy Taylor (composer), Willie Williams (video). Prima Facie is not to be underestimated and labeled as a “feminist” treatise that is against men, so those who wish to ignore what Miller’s themes are conveying can easily dismiss them. The production is complex in a time when #metoo often has been misunderstood, politically abused and misapplied. The insert with the program is a reminder of the catastrophic consequences of rape as a crime of gender annihilation. One statistic stands out. Approximately 70 women commit suicide every day in the US, following an act of sexual violence.
The point is not that sexual violence is sexual. It is that gender/sex is used to annihilate psychically, and render the “other” silent. Prima Facie investigates this on a more profound level than one expects. For that reason, it is a must see. And Jodie Comer is just terrific. For tickets and times to this play with no intermission, go to their website https://primafacieplay.com/
‘Crumbs From the Table of Joy’ Keen Company’s Revival of Lynn Nottage is a Must-See
From the excellent selection of music that fills the auditorium before Crumbs From the Table of Joy begins, to Ernestine Crump’s (Shanel Bailey) summation of the future after the roiling events with her family subsides, the Keen Company’s fine revival of Nottage’s play endears us. The playwright’s simplicity focuses on the hardships and relationship dynamics of a single father and two teenage daughters, migrating from the Jim Crow South to a Brooklyn recovering from the vagaries of WW II. Directed by Colette Robert, the heartfelt, lyrical production runs with one intermission at Theatre Row until April 1. It is a must-see for its superb performances and incisive, sensitive and coherent direction.
Ernestine is our guide through the year-long experiences negotiating her mom’s death and the family trials without their beloved mother to seamlessly make their lives easier. Their mom is intensely missed by all, especially Godfrey Crump (Jason Bowen) who yearns for companionship and tries to suppress his grief by joining up with Father Divine’s Peace Mission fellowship. Ernestine’s poetic recollections of the grieving time and the year of transformation, reveal a witty, talented raconteur. Wise beyond her years, she makes the audience her confidante to reveal the frightening, unfamiliar city and “romantic Parisian apartment” which sister Ermina (Malika Samuel) calls ugly. Occasionally, she calls up in her imagination scenes as she’d like her life to be, which the actors show with humorous results. Then the unfortunate reality encroaches, and what she wishes dissolves to what is.
The family are fishes out of water in an alien environment that never seems welcoming. The Brooklyn schools put Ermina in a lower grade. The students ridicule their country braids and home made dresses sewn with love. Generally they are treated with disdain and indifference. Surrounded by Jewish neighbors who remain aloof in their whiteness, they dp become friendly with upstairs neighbors who ask them to be their Shabbos goys.
They envy the elderly Levys, who seem joyful and full of laughter as they listen to radio and watch their TV programs. On the other hand Godfrey denies Ernestine and Ermina any entertainments on Sundays. Godfrey is an adherent of Father Divine’s principles which require sobriety and living abstemiously with few pleasures except Father Divine’s holy word. Thus, Ernestine’s misery is acute. but she overcomes her upset through humor and irony. Nottage bonds us to her heroine because of her alertly sage descriptions and authenticity, which never devolves into self pity. To support her dad and sister whom she loves, she keeps her own counsel and studies hard to finish high school. A senior she becomes engrossed with making her graduation dress by hand, working her seamstress skills. Hers will be the celebration of the first family member to receive a diploma.
While Ernestine applies herself in school, Ermina, who is 15-years old, fights her way into the social set and eventually becomes interested in boys. To establish that she won’t take sass from anyone, Ermina has her first successful fight and brings home the spoils of war in her pockets: a handful of greasy relaxed hair and a piece of grey cashmere sweater.
For his part their dad weeps, works nights at his job at the bakery, and loyally follows Father Divine. He counts on the minister to help him heal from the agonizing loss of his wife. Ernestine tells us that Father Divine has so enamored Godfrey that to be closer to him, he moved them to New York where he mistakenly thinks Father Divine lives because of a return address on the newsletter he receives as a subscriber. Their dad believes Divine’s “wisdom” is from God and he adheres to Divine’s principles to live cleanly, without alcohol or dancing or drugs, and be as devoted as a monk with celibacy as a badge of honor. Ernestine quips that this behavior is embraced by Godfrey, who never went to church or tipped his hat to a lady before they moved to Brooklyn. As for the other behaviors she doesn’t mention, we assume he did them all before their mother died.
Their home life revolves around Father Divine as their father attempts to become more spiritual and understand as much as possible under Divine’s tutelage which he seeks as he writes letters to him asking God’s advice to traverse this rough time in a bigoted environment of white people. That it was worse in the South doesn’t quite register and Nottage doesn’t make it a point. What she does indicate is that Godfrey doesn’t note the differences. For her part Ernestine appreciates that she is able to sit between two white girls touching shoulders in a movie theater, where this is not possible in a Jim Crow South which we infer from her excitement and enthusiasm. Also, she and Ermina like their nice neighbors upstairs who give them quarters for turning on the lights and the TV which they sometimes get to watch. However, to Godfrey, “white people” are a universal stereotype to be avoided and mumbled about.
Ironically, Ernestine points out his hypocrisy about selective criticism. He accepts Father Divine’s choice of a white wife to be another perfection of Godliness. Ernestine, who distrusts Father Divine, points out the difference between the God-like, elite Divine’s privilege to have a white wife, yet criticize white people to his Black followers. Meanwhile, her dad is just a poor Black man who sucks up a few crumbs from under the table of his life, which appears a drudgery especially with no woman at his side.
Enter Lily Ann Green (Sharina Martin) their mom’s deceased sister, who blows in unannounced, with values contrary to Father Divine/Godfrey and behaviors which upset Godfrey and put him on edge. Ernestine is thrilled she is there, even though Lily crashes with them, is completely self-absorbed and pushes her communistic beliefs wherever she goes,which is why she can’t hold a job. Interestingly, Nottage floats the two disparate philosophies which were to bring salvation to the Black society in America in the 1950s as sold and marketed by both: religion and the communist party.
Both preachers and communist leaders embraced the African American cause and, at their most egregious, exploited it for their own use. When Ernestine uses communist ideas in an essay that she hears Lily spout (this was during Senator Joe McCarthy’s Red Scare) her teacher is in an uproar. Likewise, Lily Ann ends up compromising Godfrey’s situation at work. Ernestine is forced to apologize as is Godfrey, who argues with Lily about not pushing communism vociferously to his daughters and others. He believes she is only making trouble. Though Lily Ann is interested in Godfrey and makes a play for him, he rejects her because he doesn’t agree with her politics and she dislikes Father Divine.
When the circumstances between them explode, Godfrey takes off a few from the family in frustration. During this respite, he meets Gerte Schulte (Natalia Payne) who emigrated from Germany after the war. Like Godfrey she is desperate for companionship and looking for someone to take care of her. Godfrey opens his heart and shares his circumstances. When he discusses Father Divine, she is receptive and together they seem to meld because of Gerte’s flexibility and charm. She is the antithesis of Lily Ann’s loose lifestyle, political determinism and stubbornness in having the upper hand with men.
Where Lily Ann is a catalyst and mentor for Ernestine and Ermina, Gerte becomes the catalyst to change their lives and split them apart. Nottage leaps her play’s action quickly forward when Godfrey brings Gerte home to introduce her to his daughters and Lily Ann. With her seductive, sweet charms, Gerte ingratiates herself into Godfrey’s life, moving herself from girlfriend to wife in a matter of a few days. The siblings are shocked as is Lily Ann. Godfrey expects all of them to live together and accept Gerte as his new wife. The results are not only humorous, they are necessary for Ernestine’s and Godfrey’s growth, as well as Lily Ann’s movement away from the dream of settling down with her sister’s husband.
As Ernestine Crump, Shanel Bailey is a phenomenon. Her narration is on-point, sensitive, nuanced and heartbreaking, especially at the end when she discusses what happens to each of the family members. Mindful of the narrative’s lovely poetic phrases, Bailey travels forward in character portraying Ernestine’s feelings in active dialogue with her dad, Lily Ann and Gerte, then seamlessly transfers to narrating her ironic perspective of them with grace. Bailey is winning and the production which hinges on her broad acting talents is strengthened with her brilliance of authenticity.
Though all of the ensemble shines, held together through Robert’s fine direction, another standout is Natalia Payne’s Gerte. Her accent is near perfect as a a German swanning through English. Payne makes Gerte likeable in her color blindness and utter humanity, as she forges a path for herself after the war. Though Nottage doesn’t fill in much of her backstory, we see she is a charming operator with resilience and an ability to read and understand situations, a survivalist. She and Godfrey end up with each other as a mutual benefit and by the end of the play, they move toward the intimacy and companionship they seek and need.
Malika Samuel’s Ermina is a breath of joyful fresh air. Her role is an addendum. It is a shame that she doesn’t have more dialogue for her funny, bright personality is winsome and the relationship Samuel and Bailey effect together rings with authenticity.
Nottage’s mouthpiece for her ideas, Lily Ann, is the most difficult of the characters to like because underneath her rhetoric, she is the most evasive. Though we attempt to infer the subtext of her character, Nottage doesn’t give us much to go on past what she stands for and says she believes in. However, her actions speak louder than her words and when Ernestine attempts to find the Harlem location of the communist party, the address that Lily Ann gives her doesn’t ring true. As Lily Ann, Sharina Martin is tough, manipulative, seductive and open-hearted with the sisters. She also layers Lily Ann’s personality so that we are wary that she is fronting and not delivering the truth to the family as she should be.
Jason Bowen’s Godfrey is spot-on believable and inhabits the role of the father desperate for answers in a world whose corrupt values make no sense except to be an incalculable frustration. His faith in Father Divine is believable to the point where we want Divine to be real. If he is duping Godfrey, who is vulnerable and heartbroken, it is a bitter and enraging Black on Black exploitation, skirting criminality. Because we empathize with Bowen’s Godfrey, we want the best for him. As Ernestine does we question his weak desperation falling for Gerte and marrying her so quickly. However, both are so needy. In the last scene Ernestine notes that Godfrey’s celibacy ends when Gerte and he make up after fighting. Bowen and Natalia Payne convey a roller coaster of emotions in their last scene together.
Kudos to the Keen Company’s creative team who bring together Colette Robert’s vision of the other 1950s America and how to prosper in spite of it. Creatives include Brendan Gonzales Boston’s spare, functional period scenic design, Johanna Pan’s costume design, Anshuman Bhatia’s lighting design, Broken Chord’s sound design and Nikiya Mathis’ wig design.
Crumbs from the Table of Joy continues until April 1 at Theatre Row. For tickets go to their website: https://www.keencompany.org/crumbsfromthetableofjoy
League of Professional Theatre Women Press Release
League of Professional Theatre Women
December 8, 2022
For immediate Release
Contact: Meg Gilbert
Press@TheatreWomen.org
Tel: (646) 386-6579
THE LEAGUE OF PROFESSIONAL THEATRE WOMEN LAUNCHES
COMPREHENSIVE PAY EQUITY RESEARCH STUDY
AS A PART OF THIER 40TH ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION
As part of its mission to advocate for parity in employment, compensation and recognition for women theatre practitioners through industry-wide initiatives and public policy, the League of Professional Theatre Women (LPTW) announces the launch of an industry-wide, comprehensive pay equity research study. Focusing on New York City and New York State theatre professionals in a variety of disciplines, the study will include qualitative and qualitative data collected through anonymous surveys and interviews in order to assess economic equity and hiring practices during the 2018 – 2022 seasons.
The Study is developed in partnership with the research firm Network for Culture & Arts Policy (NCAP) to examine pay equity, opportunities, negotiation practices, and the financial needs of theatre professionals across New York. It will be distributed to theatre professionals through unions, membership organizations, theatre staff, and guilds. All theatre professionals are encouraged to participate. All responses will be collected anonymously.
The study will remain open through December 23, 2022. All theatre professionals working or living in New York State can access the survey here: https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/LPTWEquity
Results will be analyzed and shared via industry convenings, town hall gatherings, and a full report of findings in fall 2023. The data will help to determine the LPTW’s priorities for targeted programming to support pay equity among industry professionals and to facilitate dialogue among industry leaders.
“We are proud and excited that LPTW is conducting this important research project as part of our 40th Anniversary celebration,” said LPTW co-presidents Katrin Hilbe and Ludovica Villar-Hauser. “Despite recent legislation concerning hiring practices – equal pay for equal work, transparency in salary ranges for job postings – there is still an enormous amount of secrecy surrounding money. This study is an important step towards true gender equity with regard to salaries and pay.”
The LPTW Pay Equity Research Study is supported in part by a grant from NYSCA Regional Economic Development Councils.
The League of Professional Theatre Women, (LPTW), now celebrating its 40th Anniversary, is a membership organization championing women in theatre and advocating for increased equity and access for all theatre women. Our programs and initiatives create community, cultivate leadership, and increase opportunities and recognition for women working in theatre. The organization provides support, networking and collaboration mechanisms for members, and offers professional development and educational opportunities for all theatre women and the general public. The LPTW celebrates the historic contributions and contemporary achievements of women in theatre, both nationally and around the globe, and advocates for parity in employment, compensation and recognition for women theatre practitioners through industry-wide initiatives and public policy proposals.
The Network for Culture and Arts policy (NCAP) is a full-service research and consulting firm committed to advancing organizations and individuals that support cultural and social initiatives, programs and enterprises from idea formation to realized implementation. Through mixed methods research, paired with expert strategic planning and implementation services, NCAP examines cultural and social activities, trends, policies, and practices that aid in shaping our lived experiences. We work with a range of cross-sector partners to substantively investigate how cultural activity and socially responsible investments offer economic and developmental benefits to enrich our communities in concrete ways that advance equity, access and prosperity.
The Regional Economic Development Councils (REDCs) support the state’s innovative approach to economic development, which empowers regional stakeholders to establish pathways to prosperity, mapped out in regional strategic plans. Through the REDCs, community, business, academic leaders, and members of the public in each region of the state put to work their unique knowledge and understanding of local priorities and assets to help direct state investment in support of job creation and economic growth.
CAROLE DI TOSTI 