Native Son, by Richard Wright, is the kind of novel, often a first one, springing from an immediate felt
experience, a fire in the belly, which resists quenching ... before the agents and public arrive on the scene. The American
Century Theater (TACT) is presenting the stage adaptation (to 5/9) for the first time in recent memory. Don't miss
it. Staged in 1941 by Orson Welles immediately after the novel's publication and co-written by the novelist
with Paul Green, famous for developing the symphonic drama, The Lost Colony (now in its seventieth season!),
the story follows the journey of Bigger Thomas (JaBen Early), a nineteen year-old black youth from the slums of
Chicago's South Side who (accidentally?) kills a wealthy white girl (Julie Roundtree), stages an elaborate cover-up and
feigned kidnapping, and is caught, convicted, and awaits execution for his crimes.
As with any adaptation, you
may be at a disadvantage if you've read the book first or for that matter seen the recent movie (1986). Welles
was facing different personal and artistic choices in his day and may have wanted to downplay racial and sexual aspects of
the story. The play presents Bigger more sympathetically and strives to provide the direct motivations of the character.
Among these were a portrayal of Mary who was hard-edged and comes onto him sexually, and a re-envisioning of his girlfriend
Clara (Farah Lawal) who is toned down and is killed by a stray bullet instead of being murdered by Bigger. In the book
and movie Mary is naïve and perhaps an innocent, while Bessie (Clara) is much more problematic, with a fondness for the
bottle. It is difficult to empathize with Mary, and confront the horror of her death, as it is to understand the entrapment
and doomed fate of his lover. Perhaps there were too many men stirring this strange brew.
Director, Bob Bartlett
has a huge task on his hands - probably the main reason why this play isn't performed more often - delivering
a classic work with 20 actors playing 22 parts while giving his vision to a big design team and their technical and production
staff. He's done an excellent job which honors the writers and creators.
The design elements that stood
out most effectively were the lighting by Andrew Griffin, which nicely casts this world in striking lights and shadows, along
with the bright red beam showdown scene with Bigger and Clara; and the movement by the fight choreographer, Lex Davis,
and the blocking achieved by the director with the excellent collaboration of the actors.
Mr. Early, who has an
imposing physical presence, plays Bigger with a semi-articulate emotional intensity which ranges from fear, submission, anger,
to unmitigated rage. The burden of his family responsibility, the equivocal situation in which he finds himself,
and his hatred are reflected in his body language and delivery.
Bigger's kindly mother (Renée
Charlow), implores Bigger to take a relief job, while his bantering sister Vera (Iman Hassen) and idolizing brother Buddy
(Kalon Hayward) set the private, family stage in the first of eleven scenes. This is a powerful one which comes off
well: the cornering and killing of a rat symbolize the grim world he inhabits and Bigger's display of the dead animal
to the women shows the callousness, cruelty, and petty triumph lurking in his character. Miss Emmet (Megan Graves who
also has a nice turn as a stenographer at the play's end), a prim and officious case worker, comes in to seal the deal
on Bigger's new job: a chauffeur for his wealthy and very absent landlord, Henry Dalton (Mick Tinder).
Bigger's
public world comes into focus in the next scene, when buddies Jack (Mark McKinnon), Gus (Jivon Jackson), and G.H. (Jared Shamberger)
meet in front of Ernie's Kitchen Shack, with Clara and the proprietor (Paul Morton who later delivers a spellbinding performance
as a charismatic minister) making appearances. The aspirations of the black world are on view, embodied by the
pilot and in the pantomime of power enacted by the friends. Bigger's fear of a planned robbery of a white
drug store owner leads to vicious confrontations with Gus and Ernie, when the arrival of a job offer seemingly offers him
escape with dignity.
The action through the next three scenes proceeds briskly and a little disjointedly.
Mr. Dalton, looking every bit the part of Charles Foster Kane, and the observant Jeff Britten (Bruce Raucher) take Bigger's
measure, while the labor issue and Red Menace are introduced. Making their entrance are the kindly cook, Peggy MacAulife
(Christine Hirre) and the blind mother Ellen Dalton (Danni Stewart), who has an affecting stage moment, reading Bigger's
face with her hands. Both mother and Mary, who arises late, with a hangover, are the classic do-gooders: one motivated
by her privilege the other by her rebellion. The necessity of moving the story along causes some loss of continuity
as we switch to the bedroom, early next morning. Bigger's fear of being caught here with a white women is quite
real. His attempts to stifle her sexual exuberance, increasingly forceful, I thought initially led to her demise.
But no, the still alive Mary is down, but not out, when her mother comes in to check on her, she's smothered for good.
The disposal of the body closes the action and we shift to Bigger's interrogation, followed by the appearance of
the often heard and now seen Jan (Evan Crump), who is soon staring down the barrel of Bigger's gun. At this point
a primal element is introduced: by the killing he has in a sense freed himself from the white world, but he's also becoming
a character beyond the pale, "where everything is permitted." Thoughts of brutality, ransom, and quick money arise
as Clara mentions the Leopold and Loeb crime and a contrived note is crafted by Bigger. One member of the vigilant press,
Jed Norris (Brian Razzino), ferrets out the truth as he figuratively and literally rakes over the coals of the alibi.
The play's slippery slope leading to the death of Clara, and the encounters in the legal system, as the wheels
of justice roll on, introduces the preening and self-serving district attorney, David Buckley (John Geoffrion) and a Clarence
Darrow (and Spencer Tracey) -like labor attorney, Edward Max (Bud Stringer), both actors nicely staking out their perspectives.
Against this backdrop you have The Chicago Way on display (how much things stay the same!), where the press, politics,
police, public opinion, and privilege converge to deliver a scapegoat up to the mob. Judge Alvin Hanley (Rob Weinzimer)
gavels down the inevitable and the play concludes with Bigger's sobering acceptance of himself and his actions along with
the measured societal view and its implications from his attorney and possibly his first real friend, Max.
What are
we to make of the strong reaction to the play from all quarters? For one, I don't think it's important for the audience
or the actors to like a character - this may even be an impediment. Having lived with Bigger through the better part of two
readings, a movie version, and stage adaptation, I certainly don't. But I respect him and find him a true character,
perhaps the truest because he is a manifestation of an archetype. Wright was a triple outsider: a displaced southerner,
an African American in a white world, and a communist in an ostensibly democratic society. He certainly created a outcast
character that he knew - whether we like him or not, he's for real.
Then there's a distinction
between correlation and causality that's consistently misunderstood. Not each and every individual who is subjected
to the racial prejudice of Bigger's world will result in a hardened killer - the author certainly didn't - but
you'll see more of them emerge in this world than you will in a world that's equitable. We thank Richard Wright
for giving Bigger a voice and TACT for letting him articulate it.
Sound Check: Some simulated
gunfire and occasional loud outbursts from characters.
Program Notes: Outstanding. Along with the program, a really
excellent Audience Guide is provided free to subscribers and for a small fee ($3.00) to others. The play and a biography
of Richard Wright, by Hazel Rowley, are available for purchase at a discount. Also online at http://www.americancentury.org/ there is a podcast of an interview with directors and cast as well as a telesymposium featuring the artistic director, scholars
and experts. A small exhibit of photos in the lobby depict the historical setting of the play.
Applause meter: 3 ½ hands
- Recommended
Performed in 2 hours and 5 minutes without intermission
