Photo by Chaz D. Photography
(L-R) Yewande Odetoyinbo, Alicia Thomas, and Jemier Jenkins in 'The Colored Museum' at American Stage in St. Petersburg, Florida.
Faced with our modern sensibilities, it’s hard to remember the sense of outrage in 1879, when Ibsen’s Nora slammed the door in “A Doll’s House,” leaving her family behind. Lucas Hnath’s “A Doll’s House, Part 2” is a modern philosophical treatise set in 1894 when Nora returns as a successful writer with a problem. It’s full of uproarious humor, where all the characters’ delusions collide confronting the difficulties in making human connections.
As one might expect, Laurie Metcalf’s Tony-winning performance as Nora was hugely comic and larger than life. Director Stephanie Gularte and Emilia Sargent (Nora) have put the 2017 play in better balance. There’s still much wonderful humor using contemporary vernacular (and allowing Karla Hartley to delight as the loyal, long-suffering nanny Anne Marie hurling F-bombs). But the genius of Mr. Hnath’s script is that each of the four characters has a say. There’s a lively philosophical dialectic and Ms. Gularte’s smart staging keeps the audience engaged. Ultimately, it’s a play about listening. Watching people having to consider a viewpoint they so totally don’t believe in about gender roles, parenting, marriage versus love, freedom and individual rights. “Love is different than marriage,” Nora opines. “Marriage is a binding contract and love has to be the opposite.”
The actors shine. Sargent’s Nora is a commanding presence with her flaming curls piled high above alabaster skin. She’s clearly a modern woman, fully in charge. L. Peter Callender's Torvald is a tortured soul playing the “constipated” victim, but fully capable of outrage at how unfairly he’s portrayed in Nora’s book. And his self-administered first aid for an unfortunate gash on his scalp is a masterclass in underplayed humor. Nora is forced to confront her abandoned daughter Emmy (Bria Matthews), who is a wise and self-assured millennial embracing traditions that drove Nora away.
Steven K. Mitchell’s imposing drawing room has grown notably spare in the 15 years since Nora bolted. It’s a splendid canvas for Joseph P. Oshry’s lighting and the subtle manipulation of color and texture, with lots of subliminal touches about the canyons of our minds. Trish Donnelly’s lovely costumes include perfection for Sargent’s ensemble of purple velvet, violet lace, and a magenta train and shoulder insets. The full length embroidered zig zag from button to button is a telling, literal reflection of Nora’s emotional journey. Daughter Emmy’s yellow frock provides a shocking contrast, although I’m at a loss to explain the contrasting plaid inset and bustle, however handsome. It seems distinctly ahistorical, but perhaps that’s the point.
Imagine the emotional carnage living in a century where you are not the one in control of the most important, vital decisions in your life. This is Nora’s stultifying world in Ibsen’s Norway. And, sadly, in 2022 America.
George C. Wolfe wrote “The Colored Museum” less than two decades after MLK Jr was assassinated. It’s 11 satirical skits that are rapier sharp under Keith Arthur Bolden’s superbly focused direction, evoking uproarious laughter juxtaposed with searing gut punches. The extraordinary five-member cast—Jemier Jenkins, Alicia Thomas, Yewande Odetoyinbo, Brandon Burditt, and Jermaine Robinson, Jr.—act, sing, and dance with amazing flair. The rush of energy carries the audience aloft spoofing everything from kinky hair to reductive domestic drama. For me, it’s zenith is a star turn by Mr. Robinson as Miss Roj, a finger-snapping transgender prophet from another galaxy. A couple of the exhibits run out of gas at the end, which I attribute to Mr. Wolff’s text. But the entire evening is well-served by choreographer, Patrick A. Jackson and a crackerjack design team McKenna Ebert (lights), Saidah Ben Judah (costumes), and especially, Harlan Penn, whose museum revolves and slides and projects unforgettable images from slaves packed liked sardines to the sheet music for “Mammy’s Little Coal Black Coon”—a reminder that minstrelsy only died a century ago.
Wolfe asks you to imagine being kidnapped against your will, shackled, shivering and afraid, crossing a vast ocean into the unknown. The satire comes with a cackle; a sunny “Celebrity Slave Ship” stewardess clad in baby blue leads an audience call and response of “I will not rebel”—which stings even now in the emboldened face of systematic white supremacy. Papa Malik Faye’s breathtaking drumming frames the action with unforgettable finesse.
Sadly, though, the climate of fear and oppression is still alive and well in 2022. The themes of DH2 and The Colored Museum are as volatile now as they ever have been in the last 143 years.
The restrictive backward-looking policies to “protect our children” championed in DeSantis’s Florida could place these plays on a banned list. If nothing else, they will prompt a huge conversation with arguments that are sure to make people uncomfortable. Both plays demand reflection and encourage empathy, which is essential to the survival of our democracy over the threats of authoritarian rule. Escape to the theater, but vote for democracy. Don’t allow the lust for power to overwhelm our humanity.
