Johnny Lee Davenport, Jackie Davis, Tiffany Nichole Greene, Maurice Emmanuel Parent & John Kuntz in "Bootycandy" (photo: Glenn Perry Photography) |
If
you're in the market for a show that will “shake your booty”, you
need look no further than Robert O'Hara's Bootycandy,
now being presented in its New England premiere by SpeakEasy Stage
Company. The tagline the playwright proposes says it all: “everyone
is welcome, no one is safe”. This work is not a play in the
strictest sense, but a series of sketches in which Maurice Emmanuel
Parent plays the central character, who grows up, gay and black,
before our very eyes. When it premiered off Broadway in 2014, it was
named as one of the top ten plays of the year by the New York Times.
As the title implies, referencing the slang term for the male sexual
organ, this is not intended for general consumption, and not just
because it displays the full monty. As the company's Producing
Artistic Director Paul Daigneault accurately describes it, it's “a
bold show that breaks all the rules” governing political
correctness about sexual, racial, and cultural stereotypes. Perhaps
only the fact that O'Hara, the director (Summer L. Williams) and the
star are themselves African American rescues this work from crossing
some lines. It obviously owes a great deal to another relatively
recent sketch-filled “play” by George C. Wolfe, which O'Hara has
admitted in interviews, stating that it is “absolutely a part of
the legacy of The Colored Museum...(from
which he) stole everything possible that I could”. While it's
doesn't quite reach that level, it's a clever and telling depiction
of a subculture that will be alien to many theatergoers. Covering
the period between the1970's to the present, it features a small cast
that also includes Johnny Lee Davenport, Jackie Davis, Tiffany
Nichole Greene, and John Kuntz, who among them portray some
twenty-one characters. Only Parent remains the same person, Sutter,
at three stages in his life: in his youth, as a teen and ultimately
as an adult in his 40's.
In the first brief prologue of sorts, the title of the
play (in case you didn't already know) is disclosed, as Sutter's mom
explains it all for you. There follows a scene in a black church
when the minister (Davenport) sermonizes about gossip from the “I
heard” folk and references the terms “screw and nut” about
heterosexual intercourse that he describes as a “teachable moment”,
before he reveals he has more up his sleeve than we first realize.
The bit goes on a tad too long with a predictable payoff, but
Davenport carries it off so well it works. That can't be said for
the next scene, a conversation among four women on the phone, about
naming a child Genitalia; it's almost unintelligible with respect to
the dialects used, and way too long for its final punchline. Next is
a series of blackouts between Sutter and the man who has married
Sutter's sister, which pushes the envelope further, as they discover
they have more in common than first meets the eye. Then, in a most
curious brief scene, there's a “muggable moment” that seems
detached from the work at large. But the final scene in the first
“act” features a meta-conference of playwrights, in a Q & A
segment that manages to tie together, more or less, the previous
sketches, adding that the play should be provocative and “should
not melt in your mouth”.
The second “act” is a flashback to Sutter's teen
years wherein his parents caution him to take up sports, stop reading
Jackie Collins novels and drop his penchant for appearing in high
school musicals. It's perhaps the truest scene, in which his mom
asks “have you lost your mind in real life?”. Next up is an
overly long yet hilarious celebration of non-commitment, a lesbian
divorce between the aforementioned Genitalia and her soon-to-be-ex,
Intifada. It precedes the most serious of the sketches, a three
person game of truth or dare which ends badly for one of the players.
The final scene, between Sutter and his Old Granny in a nursing
home, again manages to tie together a lot of the prior sketches, with
Davenport giving his all as the old lady and Parent doing a smashing
Michael Jackson turn, silver glove in hand, declaring that if men
would only connect sexually, “there'd be peace in the world”.
Noble sentiments that these are, there is a subtext to
this work that reflects the reality noted in some Human Rights
Campaign literature, namely that “the black church, the oldest
institution and pillar of the black community, has historically
dictated the community's stance on homosexuality-either you don't
talk about it, or you condemn it”. As the playwright commented
with respect to the all-white Oscar nominations, “you can't say oh,
that just happened...there's a process”. He has also stated that
all of the scenes are based on facts, which is a sobering thought beneath
the satire. But O'Hara's aim is obviously to entertain while he
instructs. Thanks to Williams' s direction and the skilled timing of
the ensemble, with its often broad but focused acting (difficult to
achieve), it succeeds on both levels. Every member of the cast is
superb, but special attention must be paid to Parent, who
demonstrates once again how incredibly versatile he is. Also
remarkable are the efforts of the creative team, from the gaily
colorful set by Jenna McFarland Lord, to the cool period Costume
Design by Amanda Mujica, to the effective Lighting Design by Jen Rock
and Sound Design by David Wilson.
As for Sutter, his may not be the butchest booty on the
block, but he's undeniably (and at his core) an unforgettable
protagonist. As with any series of sketches, some are better than
others, but in the end there are belly laughs aplenty (often
depending on just how street-smart one already is) and some
revelations that will stay with you long after the last guffaw. It's
a hearty and healthy mix of the zany and the sobering, and what more
could anyone ask?
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