Sheria Irving, Gabriel Ebert
(Photo: Joan Marcus)
Sally and Tom
By Julia Polinsky
The powerhouse that is Suzan Lori
Parks has partnered with the Public Theater and director Steve H. Broadnax III
to give us Sally and Tom. But this time, is Parks' work about the
history of American skin color politics, or about cutting a white icon down to
size by revealing his weaknesses, or putting on theater, with all that entails
nowadays? Or even about writing itself?
All of the above. Beautifully
written, and oh, what performances! Sheria Irving is marvelous as Luce, the
playwright of The Pursuit of Happiness, an off-off-off Broadway
play about the relationship between Thomas Jefferson and his enslaved mistress,
Sally Hemings. Jefferson is played by Mike (Gabriel Ebert), Luce's life partner
as well as the director of The Pursuit of Happiness. As the press
release says, what could possibly go wrong?
Pretty much everything, which
makes for an entertaining, enlightening two and a half hours in the theater.
Not that it's funny - although it can be - but ouch-funny as well as ha-ha
funny. Sally and Tom mixes in laughs with the rage.
Sally and Tom often feels like Parks wanted to write great speeches
and cobbled a Venn diagram of a play around them, blending modern and historic
circles of American history with Sally and Tom/Luce and Mike in the center.
Parks is also writing about writing, and what it is to be held captive by the
work itself and the realities of getting it produced. But that writerly
self-reflection can be boring, so she wraps it up in a backstage farce with
teeth.
Sure, there's a plot (or two)
crowded with incident, both in the play within the play and in the modern-day
portions. Career choices, romantic issues, selling out, infidelity, fertility,
funding, hooking up and breaking up: the funhouse mirror of human relationships,
past and present overlap all through Sally and Tom.
Sheria Irving, Gabriel Ebert (Photo: Joan Marcus)
A way-off Broadway company, Good
Company, is rehearsing a new play, The Pursuit of Happiness. Known
for politically conscious, "finger-waggy" theater with titles like Listen
Up, Whitey, Cause It's All Your Fault, Good Company has proudly had
audiences running for the exits.
The ensemble features the
nearly-famous (Alano Miller stands out as Kwame/James), not-famous, and
wannabes. Good Company are White people, Black people, and one Korean-American,
who asks what may be the most challenging question in theater these days: "...should
only the people who were, or are, the people, play the people?"
The unseen "real" producer who
comes up with notes, rejects the title E Pluribus Unum, arranges
financing, and makes creative demands: at one point, he walks away from Good
Company. He's done with the play's icon-destroying finger wagging. Icon
destroying? You bet. Jefferson comes off as a coward and a bully, unreliable,
opportunistic, and untruthful; the enslaved people are resilient, not docile;
enraged, not quiet.
Some of the show's better moments
come when Jefferson, his enslaved valet, James, and Sally speak soliloquies,
telling uncomfortable truths in compelling language and killer performances.
Jefferson, says, "I'm Thomas
Jefferson. ... I stand at the intersection of the horrible and the splendid
and the dizzy-making contradiction that is all of us: man, woman, other; black,
white, brown, red, yellow, other; old, young, other; rich poor, other, foreign,
native, other; good, bad, other; slave, free, other. E pluribus Unum. Out of
many, one."
Gabriel Ebert, Sheria Irving, Alano Miller (Photo: Joan
Marcus)
James's enraged speech, which is
cut at the last minute, is the voice of the enslaved: "...the likes of me have forgotten
how much we hate you. Truly. Hate. Because we've got to forget the hate just to
get through the blessed day..."
In Sally's soliloquy, she talks of
love and choice: "I didn't love him, and I did... What choices did I really have?
To what extent was I complicit? I could have run away. I want to push his hands
off. Tear away whatever of myself makes him want me. And yet, the horror of him
wanting me keeps me from other horrors. Some might say we were docile. I say we
were resilient."
Scenic design from Riccardo
Hernandez handily uses a stage with black-white blended mottled walls with E
PLURIBUS UNUM hidden in huge letters against the back wall, looking like maybe
it's just a trick of the light. Until the light comes up clearly on it in Alan
C. Edwards' clever lighting design and we cannot miss the message: out of many,
one. Like theater companies. And American citizens.
Leland
Fowler, Daniel Petzold (Photo: Joan Marcus)
The back
wall does additional duty when it opens to display the names of enslaved on "the list," those who Jefferson sent away when he left Monticello. Early in Act
2, two cast members talk about a design idea: if they'd had the budget, the
back walls of the set could have been the pages from he book where
Jefferson wrote the names of his enslaved people. "... and I'd light the hell out
of it... So that, at the end of the show, we'd see: THE NAMES OF ALL THE PEOPLE!"
At the end of the play, that wall
appears, covered in those names; it lands hard, and makes Sally and Tom unmissable
theater.
Sally
and Tom
At the Public
Theater
425 Lafayette
Street
2 hours 30
minutes with one intermission
Through May
26