The Red Letter Plays: Fucking A

In 1997 Suzan-Lori Parks made a casual remark to a friend that she wanted to write a riff on The Scarlet Letter and call it Fucking A. What she eventually produced was not one but two plays, both about a poor, illiterate woman named Hester who has been ill-treated by life. For the first time ever, they are being presented in tandem at Signature Theater.

B

Fucking A, written a year after In the Blood, is a far more ambitious, complex work. Set in “a small town in a small country in the middle of nowhere,” this dystopian fable resembles a Jacobean revenge drama presented in the manner of Brecht and Weill. Hester Smith (a superb Christine Lahti; God of Carnage) has been forced to become the town abortionist, for which they have carved the letter A into her chest. She has been trying for 20 years to raise the money to ransom her son Boy from prison. The rich girl who snitched on him for his petty theft is now the town’s First Lady (Elizabeth Stanley; On the Town). Whenever Hester visits the Freedom Fund Lady (Ruibo Qian; Bull in a China Shop), she learns that the price of ransom has gone up because of her son’s latest infractions in jail. The Mayor (a droll Marc Kudisch), frustrated that his wife has not borne him a child, is dallying with Hester’s only friend Canary Mary (Joaquina Kalukango; The Color Purple), who hopes that he will marry her after he has his wife eliminated.  We learn that a dangerous criminal, Monster (the wonderful Brandon Victor Dixon) has escaped and is being trailed by three vicious hunters who look forward to torturing him before killing him. When Hester finally scrapes together enough money to arrange a picnic with her son in the prison courtyard, the guard (J. Cameron Barnett; The Emperor Jones) leads in a prisoner called Jailbait (Ben Horner; An Octoroon) who turns out not only not be her son but claims to have killed him. Aside from Canary Mary, the only person showing Hester any kindness is Butcher (the wonderful Raphael Nash Thompson; Othello at The Pearl), who has long been her secret admirer. The First Lady’s unexpected pregnancy sets in motion a crescendo of violence. The play’s tragic ending approaches the level of Greek tragedy. The play is enhanced by musical interludes with some of the actors doubling as musicians. Each of the main characters gets a song. Instead of a song, the butcher gets a bravura five-minute soliloquy during which he enumerates the many infractions of his daughter Lulu. One innovation (which I found merely a distraction) is that when the women discuss matters of female sexuality, they switch to an invented language called Talk with translations projected on supertitles. The casting of Lahti as Hester is an interesting case of nontraditional casting in reverse. The role has been traditionally played by a black actor. Casting a white actor shifts the basis for much of the injustice from race to class. Fortunately, the play can support either interpretation. Rachel Hauck’s (Our Lady of Kibeho) flexible set suits the action well. Emilio Sosa’s (On Your Feet!) costumes are appropriate to their characters. Jo Bonney’s (By the Way, Meet Vera Stark) confident direction holds everything together. Running time: two hours 20 minutes including intermission.

Hamilton (revisited) **** A

When I first saw Lin-Manuel Miranda’s highly anticipated hip-hop musical about the life of one of our most intriguing founding fathers, it was still in previews at the Public Theater. The multi-talented Miranda not only wrote the music, lyrics and book; he is the co-arranger and, last but not least, the original star. This ambitious, inventive show remains strong across the board: the entertaining, informative and emotionally involving book is filled with moments of humor and pathos, the characters are vividly drawn, the lyrics are extremely clever, the deceptively simple scenic design (by David Korins) is effective, the costumes (by Paul Tazewell) are attractive, the choreography (by Andy Blankenbuehler) supports the action brilliantly, the cast is uniformly strong and the direction (by Thomas Kail) is fluid and assured. As for the music, Miranda makes a strong case for the expressive possibilities of hip-hop. Christopher Jackson, the only holdover in a principal role, has just the right gravitas for George Washington. The good news is that the newcomers to the cast are generally fine and the production is as sharp as ever. Javier Munoz’s Hamilton is just as impressive as Miranda’s was. Brandon Victor Dixon is a fine Aaron Burr even though he lacks Leslie Odom Jr’s lean hungry look. Seth Stewart is almost as good as Daveed Diggs was in two juicy roles — Lafayette and Jefferson. The replacements for Eliza (Lexi Lawson) and Angelica (Mandy Gonzalez) were a bit of a letdown after Philllipa Soo and Renée Elise Goldsberry. I miss Brian D’Arcy James’s loopy King George, but Rory O’Malley is good. If the show has a fault, it is that Miranda was overambitious and included too much material. The finale remains a bit flat. I was a bit exhausted by play’s end, but it was a pleasant kind of exhaustion. Running time: 2 hours, 50 minutes including intermission. 

Shuffle Along or The Making of the Musical Sensation of 1921 and All That Followed ****

There is an embarrassment of riches onstage at The Music Box in this tribute to the first all-black musical to reach Broadway. Brian Stokes Mitchell plays the genteel F.E. Miller and Billy Porter is Aubrey Lyles, his abrasive partner in a blackface vaudeville team who suggested expanding one of their skits into a musical. Joshua Henry is lyricist Noble Sissle and Brandon Victor Dixon is composer-pianist Eubie Blake, the pair who join them in this enterprise. Audra McDonald is Lottie Gee, star of the new show. In addition to their usual talents of acting and singing, the five leads join the fantastic dancers in performing Savion Glover’s brilliant tap choreography. Mitchell, whom I have found overbearing in recent years, manages to submerge his ego into the role with fine results. McDonald, as always, is a phenomenon; it is inconceivable that she was not Tony-nominated. Dixon and Porter are both fine. Adrienne Warren is a knockout both as the show’s second female Gertrude Saunders and as her successor Florence Mills. Brooks Ashmanskas, the sole Caucasian onstage, is a delight playing several of the men who placed obstacles in the production’s path. The abundant talent of the performers is equalled by the superb sets by Santo Loquasto, the riotous costumes by Ann Roth, the evocative lighting by Jules Fisher & Peggy Eisenhower and the wonderful arrangements and orchestrations by Daryl Waters. Director George C. Wolfe keeps the show moving energetically. It is the book, also by Wolfe, that I found wanting. The story of mounting a show against all obstacles seems cliched, even with racial prejudice added to the list of problems. With five main protagonists, there is too little time to develop any of them very deeply. Perhaps the book should have focused on Lottie, especially her long affair with the married Blake and her sacrifice of career advancement for him. I don’t see how the show could possibly have been considered a revival because Wolfe tosses out virtually the entire book of the 1921 show. Only one song “(I’m Just) Wild about Harry” is presented in its original context. The second act, which chronicles the fading fortunes of those involved with the show and the show itself is more told than shown. At times I felt I was watching an illustrated history lesson. Nevertheless, you won’t find more talent on one stage anywhere else on Broadway. With all the book’s flaws, the story represents an important piece of theater history and black history that should not be forgotten. Sadly the audience was practically all-white. Running time: 2 hours 40 minutes. NOTE: Avoid seats in the first few rows if you want to see the dancers’ feet.