Showing posts with label Colman Domingo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Colman Domingo. Show all posts

Sunday, February 28, 2016

Dot ***

Hard as it may be to envision a hilarious comedy about a family facing the mother’s descent into dementia, that’s exactly what Colman Domingo has written in his new play at Vineyard Theatre. Dotty Shealy (Marjorie Johnson) is the matriarch of a middle-class black family who have lived in their West Philadelphia row house since 1954. The father, now deceased was a successful physician. Her eldest child Shelly (Sharon Washington), now in her mid-forties, is an attorney and a single mother. Middle child Donnie (Stephen Conrad Moore), now 40, is a gay freelance music critic in New York, where he lives with his activist white husband Adam (Colin Hanlon). Youngest child Averie (Libya V. Pugh) is a brash would-be entertainment whose 15 minutes of YouTube fame has led only to a cashier’s job at Shop Rite. Fidel (Michael Rosen) is a sweet-natured unlicensed health care aide from Kazakhstan who takes care of Dotty three days a week. Jackie (Finnerty Steeves), a white neighbor who was Donnie’s high school sweetheart and who fled to New York when she learned he was gay, has suddenly returned to town and has joined them for their Christmas celebration. There is much hilarity, but the underlying situation of Dot’s deterioration is no joke. During the second act, the play bogs down a bit with some didactic moments and some sentimentality. The ensemble cast work well together. Scenic designer Allen Moyer is a triple threat: he offers a pointillist front curtain depicting the exterior of the family home, a first act kitchen that really looks lived in, and an attractive living room for the second act. Costume designer Kara Harmon has dressed the characters aptly. Director Susan Stroman shows that her talent is not limited to musicals, although she does manage to slip in a delightful dance duo for Dot and Adam. Despite the play’s flaws, the overall effect is very winning. The audience loved it. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes including intermission.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Blood Knot ***

(Please click on the title to see the full review.)
As the opening play in its magnificent new three-theater complex at W. 42nd Street and 10th Avenue, Signature Theatre has mounted a revival of Athol Fugard's 1961 two-character play, directed by the playwright himself. In this production, now in previews, two fine actors, Scott Shepherd (Gatz) and Colman Domingo (Scottsboro Boys), take over the roles originated by Fugard and Zakes Mokae. Two half-brothers -- Morris, light enough to pass for white, and Zachariah, quite dark -- live in a squalid hut in a colored area of Port Elisabeth, South Africa. Zachariah works as a gatekeeper whose job it is to keep out black children while Morris, who has returned after many years away, keeps house and attentively looks after his brother. Morris has dreams of saving enough money to start a small two-man farm. Zach craves female companionship. Morris talks him into starting a pen pal correspondence with an 18-year old girl who lives far away. Things get complicated when she turns out to be white and writes that she is coming to town on holiday. The decision to spend their hard-earned savings on a gentleman's suit for Morris to pretend to be his brother and meet the girl in his place leads to unintended consequences. Long-suppressed feelings arise and bring out the toxic side of the brothers' relationship. This is the play that made Fugard's career: in it, both his strengths and weakness are already evident. The first act drags on a bit, while the second act has a surfeit of drama. For me, the play's requirement for the characters to serve both as vivid individuals as well as symbols in a parable of apartheid leads to some awkwardness. I have to confess that I have long admired Fugard more than I have enjoyed most of his plays. Christopher H. Barreca's set, Susan Hilferty's costumes, Rick Sordelet's fight direction, and Barbara Rubin's dialect coaching are all excellent.