UGLY
By JOEL HIRSCHHORN (hear an excerpt from UGLY)
Domestic violence is the leading cause
of death among African-American women between 15 and 24, and 4
million American women experience a serious assault by an intimate
partner during a 12-month period. "Ugly," based on the true story of
a victim named Alice Marie, has scenes that dramatize the problem
with crushing candor, but its power is undercut by unsteady, jolting
jumps between realistic street jargon and self-conscious,
overwritten flights of poetry.
The poetic passages, written by
Nelsan Narie Ellis, reveal a striking flair for language, but they
intrude upon the story. This is immediately evident during a
pretentious, portentously talky opening.
The play finds its horrifying
heart when Spoke (J. David Shanks) criticizes, batters and kills his
pregnant wife, Alice Marie (Lynn Wactor). Ellis, who also directed,
stages the encounter with unsparing brutality; this poses a problem
because scenes that follow -- while some are gripping -- don't match
this one for sheer power.
Spoke isn't fully defined in the
writing. Mention is made of his frustration about not getting a job
he considers worthy of his abilities, but there isn't enough
back-story. Shanks compensates for this lack by demonstrating how
effusive affection and sexual desire can evolve into vicious
battering.
A measure of Shanks' range can be gauged by comparing his perf
to his comic portrayals in pics "Barbershop"
and "Barbershop 2." Guided by director
Ellis, Shanks here builds his boiling rages, so that we watch storm
clouds in the distance moving closer as unfounded, jealous
accusations cause him to erupt with shocking suddenness.
Wactor gives force to these
fights by playing Alice Marie with pride and strength. She's never a
pathetic victim, though she sometimes underestimates Spoke's
capacity for violence by refusing him sex or accepting a gift from
her male employer. Like so many battered women, she feels the
compulsion to defend her man and rationalize his behavior through
such statements as, "It didn't hurt, we were just playing a game,"
and, "He can really be gentle when he's not in the mood to fight."
As Alice Marie's sister Yvonne, Damali Scott represents the voice of reason. Scott brings warmth and
vitality to the role of a frantically concerned sibling who
witnesses the beatings and struggles to rescue Alice Marie before
irrevocable tragedy strikes. Begging Alice Marie to remove her
sunglasses, or threatening Spoke with a baseball bat, she
inspiringly exemplifies women who have the guts to stand up for
themselves and those they love.
Scott also brings the evening its
rare interludes of warmth and humor in a sequence where she
questions Alice Marie about her sex life and lustily confides, "I
found myself a stallion." Her responses are dramatized, rather than
dissipated, by the talk and preachiness found elsewhere in the play.
Raymond T. Williams is impressive as DayDay, Alice Marie's incarcerated brother, who vows revenge. The
climax, when DayDay and Spoke meet in darkness, is handled too
quietly and indirectly. It's a moment that has unrealized, explosive
dramatic potential.
Most of the cast members are
Juilliard graduates, and the level of acting is uniformly superior,
although Toi Perkins and Abby Gerdts have to cope with artificial
parts. Christopher Mowod struggles with the role of Alice Marie and
Spoke's son. Mowod conveys the bewilderment and panic of a youngster
in such a troubling situation, but his role is sketchy and his major
monologue doesn't come off.
Victor "Papa" Paredes supplies
jittery, exciting percussion that goes well beyond generic
underscoring to add specific, agitated drive to every scene.
Sets, Chris Dicarlo; costumes, Dawnee Mashea;
lighting, George Vennes; musical director, Eric Picotte-Harper.
Opened May 6, 2005. Reviewed May 8. Runs through May 21. Running
time: 1 HOUR, 35 MIN.
KIWI BLACK
THEATER.
Chicago Tribune - Chicago, Ill.
Author: Lucia Mauro, Special to the Tribune
Poh'ro -- resident music ensemble for Ma'at
Production Association of Afrikan Centered Theatre (MPAACT) -- takes
its name from the West African word for "a secret society of men."
But MPAACT's artistic director-musician Shepsu Aakhu points out,
"We're an open secret."
In fact, the secret is so open that Poh'ro remains
visible onstage during the Chicago troupe's theater productions at
Victory Gardens Studio Theater -- MPAACT's longtime base. Yet the
band has no intention of upstaging the actors. "The music is
seamlessly integrated into the play -- like a movie score," explains
Aakhu. "The musicians must be able to exist without stealing focus.
And they have to know when to disappear and subtly reappear. That's
why there are no horns in our shows -- they tend to steal focus."
For the world premiere of Aakhu's play, "Kiwi
Black," running April 13-May 18 at Victory Gardens, Poh'ro will
combine acoustic- electric guitar, keyboards, drums and other
percussive instruments. And, since much of the father-son drama is
set on the Jackson elevated platform, the players take on the
persona of street musicians.
The number of Poh'ro musicians -- all
multi-instrumentalists -- varies with each performance to keep the
show fresh. So Aakhu and resident composer-arranger-musician Larry
Nance will rotate with band members Aum Mura, Danjuma Gaskin and
Georges Blaise throughout the run. Improvisation and free-form
stylings are paired with structured songs.
For "Kiwi Black," Nance recorded the ambient sounds
of a subway station, which will be interspersed with the live
blues-inspired score. This approach is meant to evoke the play's
central conflict between a father (Joe), who runs a shoe-shine
business in the subway, and his son (Lennox), who expects his
struggling father to pay for his college education.
The group often merges live music and recorded sound
compiled by a separate MPAACT sound-design team called Ministers of
the New Super Heavy Funk. Both Poh'ro and Ministers received a 2002
Jeff Citation for MPAACT's production of "Kosi Dasa."
"Most of the musical choices are very masculine,"
Nance said during a rehearsal break at a Rogers Park field house.
"And I try to stay toward single or dual instruments to represent
tension. You hear the industrial grinding sound of the trains and a
mix of acoustic instruments."
Poh'ro's music is no mere aural backdrop or a
separate element tacked onto a theater production. As in film, the
score is tailored to each character, sets the mood and helps advance
the plot.
MPAACT, whose original theater works address the
contemporary "Pan-African" experience (including African, the
Diaspora and African-American), began with an all-inclusive goal.
Aakhu was among the founders who established the theater in 1991 at
the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign as a
multidisciplinary collective of actors, writers, vocalists and
musicians.
In 1992, MPAACT settled in Chicago. Its first
production, "Continuum" -- a collection of the ensemble's personal
stories -- debuted at the Body Politic Theatre. After Body Politic
closed and Victory Gardens expanded its own theater in that same
space, MPAACT continued to produce original shows in the downstairs
studio.
"It never occurred to us to separate the writing or
the design or the acting from the music," said Aakhu. "We've always
wanted to use our talents to the best of our abilities."
"Kiwi Black," which received the Theodore Ward
Playwriting Prize from Columbia College Chicago, explores the rarely
dramatized subject of an African-American father, as Aakhu noted,
"who is present -- instead of absent -- for his son."
Calling it a metaphor for the unpredictable life,
and constant hustle, of being an artist, the playwright described
the central story as "a father who has not made adequate
preparations for his son's education because of personal life
choices." But it also addresses the issue of entitlement: What can
children realistically expect from their parents?
An emotionally charged play, "Kiwi Black" is ideally
suited to MPAACT's overriding philosophy of theater music. "In the
end," Aakhu said, "the soundscape is not meant to be heard, but to
be felt." (TOP)
(TOP)