When the Negro Ensemble Company presented Charles Fuller’s A Soldier’s Play in its Off Broadway premiere in 1981, the production garnered a number of theater awards and Fuller won a Pulitzer Prize for Drama the following year. Norman Jewison directed the film version retitled A Soldier’s Story in 1984 where it was nominated for numerous awards. It has been produced in two revivals Off Broadway in subsequent decades. At last Fuller’s searing, profound work about race prejudice internalized has received its premiere on Broadway, thirty-nine years later. It is currently running at American Airlines Theatre.
With exceptional direction by the amazing Kenny Leon (Much Ado About Nothing, Shakespeare in the Park 2019) and sterling ensemble work headed up with masterful performances by David Alan Grier and Blair Underwood, A Soldier’s Play has come to Broadway with vibrant force and vigor. The dramatic arc of development revolves around solving a murder mystery. The body of Tech/Sergeant Vernon C. Waters (David Alan Grier portrays the unlikable, brutal, tragic Sergeant) is found with two bullet holes. The murder case is solved through flashbacks of scenes during the testimony of witnesses, narration and scenes unfolding in the present day 1944, Fort Neal, Louisiana.
Captain Charles Taylor (Jerry O’Connell in a fine performance) and his superiors take precautions with the men of Waters’ platoon Company B, 221st Chemical Smoke Generating Company. They fear that Waters’ men may engage in revenge killings against red necks in the area of Fort Neal, Louisiana. It is not clear at the outset, but Waters may have been lynched by the KKK or good ole boys who intend to keep blacks bowing and scraping. Until his murder is investigated, and more is discovered about what may have happened, Waters’ men are guarded by MPs who surround their barracks so that none of them get entangled with white townspeople. Private Hensen suggests that the Klan killed Waters because lynchings have been happening since he arrived at Fort Neal. But he may have been murdered by white officers in a racial killing. As a result, commanding officers on the base have given the case a “low priority status,” and are ready to sweep all they discover under the rug.
The consideration makes sense in 1944 during WW II. At the Fort Neal and on every base in the U.S. military, black and white soldiers are segregated in their living quarters, platoons and companies. Service in the military is as discriminatory as the “separate but equal” oppressions of the Jim Crow South. In the day to day operations, the black companies are detailed with doing the scut work and menial assignments in order to confirm that they are the inferior race. Indeed, the men have not yet been sent to Europe to fight. This is another racist assumption that they cannot be trusted, but fit the stereotypic mischaracterization of blacks being lazy, shiftless, mentally slow and cowardly.
Fuller’s play focuses on the nullifying effects of racism as blacks attempt to rise in a culture that oppresses them, and counter-productively rejects or ignores their gifts and contributions. Using the lens of the past during WWII and the backdrop of segregation in the military, Fuller brilliantly emphasizes the psychological impacts of racism which creates annihilating divisions not only between blacks and whites, but especially between blacks and blacks. An inferred theme is that as the fascist Nazis did for Germany, these behaviors also, are incredibly destructive to “the master race.”
Fuller’s play reveals a richness of themes, characterizations and conflicts that timelessly reflect great currency for us today with underlying institutional racism and the increasing evidence of racism unleashed by the White House. Fuller also digs deeply into the black on black abuse and crime that evidences the internalization of white oppression and denigrating values and attitudes that blacks unconsciously accept as they seek to redefine themselves culturally apart from the mordant ethics of white culture.
Leon, highlights these themes with his superb direction and vision of Fuller’s play. His is a fascinating and nuanced iteration that includes symbolism and foreshadowing manifested by Allen Lee Hughes’ lighting design and the music rendered in song by the on-point cast, elucidated by the excellent sound design of Dan Moses Schreier. At appropriate junctures in the production, beginning from the outset, Leon has the soldiers in Company B sing. We come to understand later that they are mourning one of their own. The music ties them together in a unity that cannot be breached by the racist white officers.
However, this unity must be breached by Captain Richard Davenport (Blair Underwood) a lawyer assigned to the 343 Military Police Corp Unit, if he is to discover who murdered Waters. In a devastatingly powerful, psychologically sensitive and heartfelt performance, Underwood introduces us to the racial dynamic he must confront as he analyzes the situation with objective tolerance, restraint and courage. It is an irony that in Davenport’s encounters with white officers, who would abuse his rank and his education, he stands his own ground with dignity and grace, employing the full force of his culture’s weapons (including a rumor that Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall is behind the investigation). No publicity is good publicity; if the case, which has been given low priority, is not handled properly, it could embarrass the military in a time of war.
Davenport, who is a maverick outlier, confounds the racist military officers who don’t know what to do with him and how to behave around him. He is a confident, self-realized, unbowed black man who is educationally superior to them, having achieved a law degree in addition to four years of college. Davenport’s talking “like a white man” and his staid nature and inner power particularly annoy Captain Taylor who dislikes that Davenport outranks him in intelligence and education, though they are on equal footing as Captains.
They disagree continually about Davenport’s mission, his competence, his confidence bucking the system and his insistence in interrogating and arresting white officers who might be charged with Waters’ murder. Underwood’s Davenport and O’Connell’s Taylor are authentic in their head-to-head arguments which intensify as Davenport incisively moves through his investigation. Both actors contribute to creating suspense and heightening the themes about why Waters was murdered, which gives rise to the underlying psychological and racial components that his murder reveals.
Fuller’s depth of characterization, his wisdom and his clear-eyed perception of what it means to be black in the military and in America then and now is only enhanced and codified in this insightful rendering shepherded by Kenny Leon to perfection. Each of the relationships between and among the enlisted soldiers of Company B, Waters and the white officers reflect explosive, vital issues. The irony of the setting is that America, which is mandated to fight and destroy fascism, of course refuses to adequately confront its racist fascism at home. The white culture forces susceptible blacks to obviate their own identity and culture to embrace white culture to “thrive.” Of course by doing this, blacks must reject their own people, their own very being as they internalize the value of being white and act white to get ahead, destroying their very valuable spirit and the soul of blackness.
This mistaken assumption is exemplified by Sergeant Waters. David Alan Grier’s perceptive understanding of Waters reveals the character’s limitations and sorrows. His cruelty toward some of the men in his company is an outgrowth of venerating white values and not defining himself as having worth apart from the white cultural “successes”. Grier’s portrayal is complex and rich with nuanced meaning. He reveals Waters’ realization of how he has destroyed himself and others as the great tragedy of the play. He is stunning and sardonic in his provocation of the white officers, and it is then we realize that he cannot get untangled from the morass he has created in abusing himself and others. He has become the epitome as the white man’s creature who perpetrates the most pernicious elements of discrimination and hatred by oppressing himself and attacking his own people.
Grier’s Waters is miserable and is looking to be put out of this hell he has created. And the execution he cannot effect for himself in a suicide, he provokes another to accomplish for him. His death is paralleled with another in the production. The other death is senseless genocide that Waters prompts, of course, because daily, Waters must cut out his black identity from his own soul. And in a twisted, passive aggressive revenge against blacks, whom he sees as not rising to the white man’s standards, he obliterates them. It is a slow, horrific process of self-destruction and fraud that the men in his company recognize, but cannot articulate. If they could they might be able to beneficially codify how to stop the genocidal practice of destroying oneself to “fit in” which Waters exemplifies.
In addition to the exceptional performances already mentioned are the performances of J. Alphonse Nicholson portraying Private C. J. Memphis and Rob Demery portraying Corporal Bernard Cobb. Nicholson’s Memphis is sensitive, loving and accepting. His speech to his close friend Corporal Cobb (who, too, is kind and elucidating) is poignant and filled with longing. We immediately understand where he is going in his life and why; his choice is symbolic and consequential; it is the cry of freedom from strictures which have so bound up Waters as to make him daily harm himself and target those like Memphis and Cobb.
Waters’ act of provocation and Memphis’ act are different sides of the same coin. That their behavior is directed against themselves and the black race in genocidal acts caused by racism and fascism, runs to the soul of American and is Leon’s and Fuller’s indictment against white supremacy. Indeed, if we look hard and deep enough in our justice system, in our economic inequality, in our educational inequality, the same threads of injustice prevail today. They are frighteningly manifest in the fascism of white supremacists who look to find their “place in the sun” which they fear they have lost. It is an incredible irony considering that they are blind, deaf and dumb to their own cultural creations and backwash reflected by institutional racism and discrimination that ultimately is destroying the white culture along with the black in a nihilistic seething inhumanity.
The conclusion delivered by Underwood’s Davenport that sums up the case findings and aftermath is emotionally riveting. It is as heartfelt and poignant as Nicholson’s speech as Private C. J. Memphis. But where Memphis has chosen his decision, Davenport is both blessed and cursed with infinite understanding. Indeed, we see that his recounting of what has transpired in Fort Neal is a memorial to these individuals. Also, it is triumphant in its prophesy for the future of civil rights achievements and the hoped for end of racism and discrimination which has yet to be realized even to this day in America. And finally it is a cry of anguish from the depths of Davenport’s soul: of frustration, of anger, of a cry to the heavens for justice. The interpretations are many as a capstone to this incredible production whose themes are paramount for us today.
Thankfully, Fuller’s play and this production put these themes front and center. It is impossible not to feel them, see them, know them, especially in recognizing current attempts to destroy our imperfectly realized democratic form of government by moving it toward fascism and dictatorship.
Once again kudos to the ensemble acting whose unity and and realism helped to create a memorable, thrilling night at the theater. And kudos also go to the creative team: Derek McLane (set design) Dede Ayite (costume design) Allen Lee Hughes (lighting design) Dan Moses Schreier (sound design) Thomas Schall (fight choreographer).
The must-see A Soldier’s Play is running at American Airlines Theatre (42nd St. between 7th and 8th) with one intermission until 15 March. For tickets and times CLICK HERE.
From Emilio Sosa’s vibrant costumes to Beowulf Boritt’s impeccable set design (a landscape of roses, luscious, ripe-for-the-plucking peaches on the Georgia peach tree, the luxuriant front lawn, the Georgian-styled, two-story mansion-representative of an orderly, harmonious, idyllic world), this update of Much Ado About Nothing resonates as an abiding Shakespearean classic. Director Kenny Leon’s vision for the comedy with threads of tragedy evokes a one-of-a-kind production with currency and moment. This is especially so as we challenge the noxious onslaught of Trumpism’s war on democratic principles, our constitution and the rule of law.
Directed with a studied reverence for eternal verities, Leon, with the help of his talented ensemble, carves out valuable takeaways. They focus on key elements that gem-like, reflect beauty and truth in Shakespeare’s characterizations, conflicts and themes. By the conclusion of the profound, spectacular evening of delight, of sorrow, and of laughter, we are uplifted. As we walk out into a shadowy Central Park, our minds and hearts have been inspired to shutter fear and cloak our souls against siren calls that would lure us from reason into irrational insentience and hatred.
Kenny Leon has chosen for his setting a wealthy black neighborhood of Atlanta, Georgia, whose Lord of the realm, Leonato (Chuck Cooper’s prodigious, comedic and stentorian acting talents are on full display), shows his political persuasion with prominent signs on the front and side of his house that read, “Stacey Abrams 2020.” The impressive “Georgian-style” mansion which could be out of East Egg, the upper class setting of The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, is ironic with the addition of its advocating support for Abrams.
With this particular set piece, we note Leon’s comment on black progress toward a sustained economic prosperity amidst a backdrop of oppression, if one considers the chicanery that happened during Abrams’ run for the 2018 gubernatorial election. It also is reminiscent of the house of the racist, misogynistic villain of Gatsby, the arrogant, presumptuous Tom Buchannan and other such elites (i.e. wealthy conservatives), who give no thought to destroying “people and things” of the underclasses with their policies. Yet Lord Leonato and his friends and relatives are not turned away from justice and empathy for others. This, the director highlights through this Shakespearean update, whose characters seek justice and truth and encourage each other to abide in kindness, love and forgiveness.
Leon approaches his vision of justice through love by weaving in songs and music. At the outset Leon incorporates such music with a refrain sung by Beatrice (the inimitable Danielle Brooks):
“Mother, mother, there’s too many of you crying, brother, brother, brother, there’s far too many of you dying. You know we’ve got to find a way to bring some lovin’ here today.”
As Beatrice finishes the refrain by asking “What’s happening?” her ensemble of friends which include Hero (Margaret Odette), Margaret (Olivia Washington), and Ursula (Tiffany Denise Hobbs), sing the patriotic ballad “America the Beautiful” as a prayer and inspiration for the country to follow its ideals of “brotherhood from sea to shining sea.” This is not a war-like unction, it a solicitation for peace and goodness. Clearly, the women importune God to “shed His grace” on America. One infers their feeling as an imperative for political and social change hoped for, in a true democracy which can guarantee economic equality and justice.
The arrangement of “America the Beautiful” is lyrical and soulfully harmonious. As the women sing this anointed version they transform the text from hackneyed cliche, long abandoned by politicos and wealthy Federalist Society adherents, and uplift it with profound meaning. They encourage us toward authentically pursuing justice, brotherhood and unity in love and grace, elements which are sorely tried during the central focus of Much Ado About Nothing, during Hero’s unjust slander and infamy until she receives vindication.
After the women finish singing, the men march in from the wars. Instead of arms, they carry protest signs decrying hate, uplifting love, proclaiming the right of democracy. Instead of a warlike manner they are calm. The theme of justice and the imperative for political and social brotherhood prayed for in the previous song is reaffirmed as we understand what the “soldiers” are fighting for. In Leon’s genius it is a spiritual warfare, a battle for the soul of American democracy. Leonato appreciates their endeavors and invites them to stay with him for one month to be refreshed and gain strength before they go back out for another skirmish against the forces of darkness.
The music and songs composed by Jason Michael Webb strategically unfold throughout the development of the primary love story between Leonato’s daughter, Hero (the superb Margaret Odette) and family friend Claudio (the excellent Jeremie Harris). And they follow to the conclusion with the funeral and redemption of Hero and her final marriage and dual wedding celebrations with the parallel love story between Beatrice and Benedick. The songs not only illustrate and solidify the themes of love, forgiveness, and the seasons of life, “a time for joy, a time for sorrow,” they unify the friends and family with hope and happiness through dancing and merriment. The melding of the music organically in the various scenes throughout the production is evocative, seamless and just grand.
After the men arrive from their protest, the director cleverly switches gears and the tone moves to one of playful humor and exuberance. With expert comic timing, Brooks’ Beatrice wags about Benedick in a war of sage wits and words. Coleman’s Benedick quips back to her with equal ferocity that belies both potentially have romantic feelings but must circle each other like well-matched competitors enjoying their “war” games as sport. They offer up the perfect foils to a plot their friends later devise using rumor to get Beatrice and Benedick to fall in love with each other in a twisted mix up that is hysterical in its revelations of human pride and ego.
The relationship between Beatrice (the marvelous Danielle Brooks) and Benedick (Grantham Coleman is her equally marvelous suitor and sparring partner) is portrayed with brilliance. The couple serves their delicious comedic fare with great good will and extraordinary fun. Their portrayals provide ballast and drive much of the forward action in the delightful plot events. Danielle Brooks gives a wondrously funny, soulfully witty portrayal. As Benedick, Grantham Coleman is Brooks’ partner in spontaneity, LOL humor, inventiveness and shimmering acuity.
Various interludes in Act I are also a time for male banter about the ladies Hero and Beatrice and the love match with Hero that friend of the family Don Pedro (Billy Eugene Jones) effects for his friend Claudio (Jeremie Harris). The scene between Benedick, Claudio and Don Pedro is superbly wrought with Benedick’s insistence he will remain a bachelor. The audience knows he “doth protest too much” for himself and for Claudio. The pacing of their taunts and jests is expertly rendered. The three actors draw out every bit of humor in Shakespeare’s characterizations.
Into this beauteous garden of delight, exuberance and order creeps the snake Don John (Hubert Point-Du Jour), brother of Don Pedro, and his confidante and friend Conrade (Khiry Walker). Though they support the fight for democracy, Don John is engaged in sub rosa familial warfare. We move from the macrocosm to the microcosm of the human heart which can be a place of extreme wickedness as it is with Don John who quarreled with his brother Don Pedro, his elder and does not forgive him. Don Pedro extended forgiveness and grace to Don John, which Don John feels forced to accept though he is not happy about it. Indeed, he is filled with rancor and seeks revenge, to abuse his brother and anyone near him, if the opportunity presents itself which it does.
The conversation between Conrade and Don John is intriguing for what Shakespeare’s characterizations reveal about the human condition, forgiveness and remorse. Indeed, Don John is reprobate. Whether out of jealousy or the thought that he has done no wrong, he feels bullied to accept his brother’s public forgiveness. The theme “grace bestowed is not grace received unless there is true remorse,” is an important message highlighted by this production through the character of evil Don John who eschews grace. Indeed, extending grace and forgiveness to such individuals is a waste of time. No wonder Don John would rather “be a canker in a hedge than a rose in his grace.”
Trusting Conrade, Don John admits he is a plain-dealing villain. When he learns of Claudio’s marriage, he plots revenge on Don Pedro by attacking his best friend and smearing Hero’s integrity and fidelity to Claudio. The jealous Claudio is skeptical, but later “proof” during a duplicitous arrangement with an unwitting Margaret, Claudio becomes convinced that Hero is an unfaithful, unchaste philistine.
Claudio’s jealous behavior and immaturity believing Don John turns goodness into another wickedness as evil begets evil. As they stand at the alter Claudio excoriates Hero as an unfit whore to the entire wedding party. Hero, injured unjustly by Don John’s wicked lie and Claudio’s extreme cruelty, collapses. In a classic historical repetition, once again misogyny raises its ugly head and condemns the innocent Hero destroying her once good name. Benedick, the uncanny Friar and Leonato stand with Hero. This key turning point in the production is wrought with great clarity by the actors so that the injustice is believable and it is shocking as injustice always is.
Thankfully, The Friar’s (a fine Tyrone Mitchell Henderson) suggestion to return Hero to grace and redemption in Claudio’s eyes by proclaiming her death to bring her again to a new life is effected with power. Finally, we appreciate a cleric who bestows love not condemnation or a rush to judgment! The emotional tenor of the scene is in perfect balance. Odette and Harris are heartfelt as is Cooper’s Leonato. The scene works in shifting the comedy to tragedy and of uplifting lies believed in as facts with wickedness overcoming love and light. Once again we are reminded that Shakespeare’s greatness is in his timelessness; that if allowed the opportunity for vengeance and evil, humanity will corruptly, wickedly use lies cast as facts to dupe and deceive the gullible, in this case Claudio.
I absolutely adore how the truth comes to light, through the lower classes represented by Dogberry (a hysterical Lateefah Holder) and her assistants who are witnesses to Don John’s accomplices to nefariousness. I also appreciate that all the villains in the work admit their wrongdoing; it is a marvel which doesn’t always occur the higher the ladder of power and ambition one ascends. But this is a comedy with tragic elements, thus, evil is turned to the light and Beatrice and Benedick the principle conveyors of humor are lightening strokes of genius which soothe us to patience until justice arrives right on time.
I also was thrilled to see that the remorseful, apologetic Claudio willingly accepts Hero’s recompense (Leon has Hero dog him in the face) as she unleashes her rage at his unjust treatment. These scenes of redemption and reconciliation ring with authenticity: Cooper, Odette and Harris shine.
The celebrations, masked dance, marriage between Hero and Claudio, Hero’s funeral and the final marriages are staged with exceptional interest and flow; they reveal that each in the ensemble is a key player in the action. The choreography by Camille A. Brown and the fight direction by Thomas Schall are standouts. Kudos also goes to those in the creative team not previously mentioned. Peter Kaczorowski’s gorgeous lighting design conveys romance and subtly of focus during the side scenes; Jessica Paz’s sound design is right on (I heard every word) and Mia Neal for the beautiful wigs, hair and makeup design receives my praise.
Leon’s Much Ado About Nothing is one for the ages. It leaves us with the men doing warfare for the soul of democracy leaving Leonato’s ordered world of right vs. wrong where the right prevails. Once again soldiers fight the good fight and go out to resist and stand against the world of “alternate facts” where chaos, anarchy, and the overthrown rule of law abide (at this point) with impunity. Leon counsels hope and humor; progress does happen, if slowly.
This production’s greatness is in how the director and cast extract immutable themes. These serve as a beacon to guide us through times that “try our souls,” and they encourage us to persist despite the dark impulses of money-driven power dynamics and fascist hegemony that would keep us enthralled.
I saw Much Ado About Nothing in a near downpour then fitful stop and start to continual light rain during which no one in the audience left. Despite this the actors were anointed, phenomenal! I would love to see this work again. I do hope it is recorded somewhere. It’s just wow. The show runs until June 23rd. You may luck out with tickets at their lottery. Go to their website by CLICKING HERE.
American Son written by Christopher Demos-Brown is a much needed polemic about what happens to young black males in our nation. If you can help it, don’t be a young, black male. Or if you are, try to stay off the streets between the ages of 13-35. Then, your chances of being shot or incarcerated should be greatly reduced.
To what extent does law enforcement abuse figure in to the above? The percentages speak for themselves. Indeed, this is especially so if one considers that law enforcement regulations and gun laws vary from state to state. However, do not take my word or this production’s thematic pronouncements at face value. Read the crime blotters in cities and suburbs. Sadly, the facts/statistics mount up. And this “in-your-face,” “no-holds-barred” drama powerfully directed by Kenny Leon, presents a typical case so we cannot blink or turn away. Nor can we pretend American Son lays out a mostly fictional reality. If only that were true.
The title generalizes to all our American sons. It does this in the hope that we empathize and understand especially if we are white. Eventually, our nation may become color blind, and there will be no need for the paranoia of white supremacy, Neo-Nazis, and the KKK. Then we will have achieved a miracle of decency and humanity. Surely, then law enforcement will not be partisan to favor white males over women and darker hued men and women of all races in the apprehension of suspects. Perhaps then we will be able to uplift the United States as a country which stands for equal opportunity and justice for everyone. Until then, our presentments express nobility, but our actions express venality and injustice.
Having taught in a multi-cultural district for decades, I’ve known of tensions between law enforcement and various cultures. I can think of one incident when a male student as talented and erudite as Jamal (Kendra’s son in American Son), discussed his experience of police brutality. I saw the remnants of the beating on his handsome face and was sick for the trauma he went through. Thankfully, since then he has prospered in his life and has his own family.
That was over twenty years ago. Overall, the situation has worsened. The rhetoric has escalated, and groups which work to ameliorate the tensions between law enforcement and various cultures have faltered. Often conservative, right-wing, partisan think tanks hold up memes of such groups as fodder for their smear campaigns. They promote antipathy to accelerate their political agendas against gun control and in support of oligarchic nationalism. Also, they seek to divide the populace and incite incidents throwing law enforcement in the middle of the fray.
And what of law enforcement representatives of multi-cultural groups? Indeed, circumstances squeeze them to an “either-or” choice between a rock and a hard place. Few issues have a thesis-antithesis result or solution but remain extremely complex. Thus, the lack of will and incomplete measures to solve problems remain beyond the grasp of well meaning individuals.
All of these issues and many more Demos-Brown presents in this soul-crushing drama that reminds us we live in a nation whose values allegedly proclaim equality for all. But whose recent government practices establish equality for the rich, privileged and predominately white conservatives. Living in the South, even if the city is Miami, the setting of American Son, if a son is not a white, young male, but a black male, then black mothers’ anxiety living in that culture increases. Sadly, their fears for their son when encountering police often is warranted.
African American parents understand that their son’s age and skin-color provide a tragic liability for harm. Darkly hued skin colors arrest faster than white skin colors. Driving while black used to be a twisted joke. You know, when a black male drives through a white neighborhood, he is there to commit a crime. The situation has been exacerbated and the joke has morphed. Now, if one is riding while black, walking while black, smiling while black, hanging out while black, existing while black, one becomes a police suspect.
The question remains. To what extent have members of law enforcement across the nation lost their moral compass about civil rights? And how has the “use of force” taken on sinister tones toward people of color in the aftermath of protests concerning Michael Brown, Travyon Martin, Sandra Bland, and many others?
As Kendra (Kerry Washington is magnificent throughout), Jamal’s mom suggests, if you’re not black you will not understand the fear of a mother for a child who is missing. And she vehemently asserts this truth to Jeremy Jordan’s Officer Paul Larkin who tries to ameliorate her vocal volume and push back as to his whereabouts. Larkin, the white police officer manning the midnight shift in the law enforcement building where Kendra waits for news of Jamal, appears to be a fine person.
Ironically, we and he think she’s abrasive and “over-the-top.” Of course we do not understand as black parents might understand. However, by the end of the play, our perception changes. Only then do we reflect upon Kendra’s intuition. And we realize that indeed, her frantic, frenzied, fearful ranting and insistent “aggression” against the officers and husband, Scott (Steven Pasquale), speak to a deeper purpose.
Kendra, as mother tiger stands up to Larkin’s very fine person presentation. Unrelenting, she finally pushes him to give her snippets of information until Scott (also in law enforcement but not a cop), her estranged husband arrives. Interestingly, with Kendra out of the room for a moment, the characters reveal additional information about themselves and the situation. When the two white men speak together, the dynamic shifts.
Demos-Brown to his credit includes this scene to advance the plot development and relay themes. Easily we note how between the interactions between Larkin, white Scott and black Kendra reveal stereotyping, presumptions and damaging social folkways that perpetuate social ills. Such folkways promote male-female stereotypes and black-white stereotypes. And the fears and close-mindedness generated by them become obstacles to authentic, heart-felt dialogue among all of the stakeholders.
As Scott, Kendra’s soon to be X husband, Steven Pasquale’s powerful performance remains level with Washington’s. Tragically, he partially “gets” how his son’s not coming home implies danger. However, as a white male, we note he wears the cloak of privilege. Sadly, as hard as he has tried to place the cloak upon Jamal’s shoulders, his son’s skin color isn’t light enough.
Nevertheless, when Scott repeatedly asserts Jamal will be fine, we and Kendra believe him. Indeed, how comforted we are as he makes assurances. But Kendra’s son and Scott’s son though the same, hail from different backgrounds. On the streets, Jamal’s DNA is Kendra’s. On the sports field, in school, and at the prestigious college he will be attending, Jamal’s privileged DNA belongs to Scott’s background. Kendra calls Scott on such issues. Scott remains in a cloud about it not quite accepting the import of her message. How can he? His background and very DNA establish his cultural supremacy regardless of his heart. Blessed and damned by his identity, he loves Jamal and this love becomes its own liability. The play’s conclusion clarifies the complex truth of being a child of this bi-racial couple.
With precision Demos-Brown reveals the mammoth difficulties in color-blind marriages. This becomes a very vital theme of this amazing and thoughtful play. For however “color-blind,” loving and empathetic he remains, Scott thinks and carries the white male perspective which he has projected on his son’s lifestyle and accomplishments. Of course, Kendra speaks from a black female perspective with great wisdom. However this fact remains. They must work overtime to conjoin their views, attitudes and the chasms of identity or the contentions and blind spots will continue as they raise Jamal.
This paramount theme strikes with fury throughout the production especially after Scott appears and he and Kendra argue about their perspectives and relationship to their son. Scott blames her not Jamal as the reason he walks out on the family. Bravely, Kendra shines her authentic and “no-nonsense,” self. Thus, when she indicts him and the others for their various individual callousness, her retorts sting. And when she indicts Lieutenant John Stokes (the excellent Eugene Lee), as an “Uncle Tom” who should know better, but only soft-pedals a cover-up, we cringe. Yet we do recognize that circumstances have forced the Lieutenant to wear that mantle, regardless of his inner feelings.
Though she does apologize to obtain the Lieutenant’s help with Jamal, her words have struck home. To what extent do blacks rise to the level of gatekeepers, merely put there to keep “their own folks in line?” Meanwhile, do they ever achieve the top positions and call the shots? Or must they remain lackeys to cover up the mess their colleagues may create? To what extent do they compromise themselves and add to the racial stereotyping? This is another theme that Demos-Brown includes in this multi-messaged, profoundly insightful play about race, gender, mores surrounding each, social stereotypes, the inadequacy of law enforcement training and much more.
All the while, Jamal never shows up or answers his phone heightening the tension for the parents. When Scott has a physical altercation with Lieutenant Stokes, we wonder the extent to which prejudice has pushed him over the edge. And likewise for Lieutenant Stokes to arrest Scott, how far does his own prejudice take him? The white-black conflict between Stokes and Scott fascinates. So does the conflict between Kendra and Scott as they argue about how they raised Jamal. Then comes the information that pushes everyone toward a new development and possible resolution.
Kerry Washington, Steven Pasquale, Eugene Lee, and Jeremy Jordan hit the bulls-eye with their portrayals. Each creates intensity. This combines to transfer the tension up the line to explode at the conclusion. Leon’s taut and clear-eyed direction channels their energy in a tumultuous build. All play for the stakes which crescendo up and into a mountain of emotions with which we simultaneously engage in, recoil, sorrow over.
Inevitably, I intuited what happened to Jamal before the conclusion because of my own background and extensive reading. Demos-Brown and the cast work assiduously to get us to do the impossible: identify with Kendra’s plight as a black mother in an environment of predators and passive-aggressives. Empathizing with her, one knows what can and might happen. Thus, for me, the ending came less as a shock. However, emotion doesn’t figure in so much as rationality at the play’s conclusion. When is enough enough? The nightmare of racism, genderism, oppression, injustice, inequity of power must decrease adhering to constitutional law not increase. The play is an incredible cry from the heart of love, and it reverberates with a terrible, engrossing, and tragic echo of our time.
American Son must been seen for the stellar, relentless, crackling performances, the tension, the adroit direction, the symbolism of the set (including the rain storm), and the lucid and well constructed play by Demos Brown.
American Son features scenic design by Derek McLane, costume design by Dede Ayite, lighting design by Peter Kaczorowski, and sound design by Peter Fitzgerald.
It runs with no intermission at the Booth Theatre (222 West 45th street) until 27th of January. For tickets go to the website.