Father Comes Home from the Wars (Parts 1, 2 & 3)

Reviewed by Gray Palmer
Mark Taper Forum
Through May 15

RECOMMENDED

Promising an epic in nine acts, the excellent Suzan-Lori Parks delivers a fine first installment. There are separate titles for each act of Father Comes Home from the Wars (Parts 1, 2 & 3), which is currently receiving its West Coast premiere at the Mark Taper Forum. They are: “A Measure of a Man,” in which Hero (the superb Sterling K. Brown), a slave on a Texas plantation in 1862, must decide whether or not to follow his owner, Colonel (a wickedly funny Michael McKean), into battle; “A Battle in the Wilderness,” in which we observe Colonel, Hero, and their wounded Union captive (Josh Wingate) camped-out between two approaching armies; and “The Union of My Confederate Parts,” in which the survivors return.

Parks is known for eccentricities of diction and vivid stage images. But there’s something further. In the theater, verbal magic, as in prayer or in curses, is real. In some narrative rituals, such as classic Greek theater, the audience becomes partly chorus, joining a potential that may become a renewed group or even a new subject. In this play, Parks uses forms intended to work that transformation, old forms with echoes of the oldest stories.

Director Jo Bonney’s production is beautiful, well-sized visually, physically and musically to the arena. It’s great to see the play at the Taper (Bonney also directed its premiere at the Public in 2014), but I think it would work equally well at a hobo jungle off the rail-yards near the L.A. River. I’d prefer that ticket price.

Two elements of Neil Patel’s striking production design stand out immediately. At the beginning of “A Battle in the Wilderness,” we see McKean playing banjo and singing to Wingate trapped in a cage. Colonel is evidently trying to get up a singalong with his prisoner. As if that weren’t enough in itself, at the same time we observe an odd, painterly (possibly moral) effect: the slave shack from the first act is now suspended in mid-air over the players. I thought, “Isn’t that dangerous for Mr. McKean and his colleague under there?” But they seemed relaxed. A little later I thought, “No house belongs in mid-air. You’d fall out.” And a little later, “That house wants to land at a spot where two armies are converging. Better stay up.”

The other fascinating design element is a long ramp high across the back wall of the stage, perfect for use in delayed entrances and prolonged exits. At such moments, the excellent lighting by Lap Chi Chu is impressive.

There is love, there is surrogate family, rivalry, faithfulness, lapses, betrayals, and the narrative proceeds by reversals. And some extraordinary acting: several times during the opening night performance, I saw Brown wipe tears from his face — actual tears — an impediment to a man struggling to measure up, and not to be shared with the others (or the audience). And at another point, when he is commanded to strike camp, a tin of boot-polish eludes his grasp over and over. His quick flash of self-impatience brought laughter from the attentive house. Sweet spontaneity, fine actor.

But the entire company of performers is also fine. Working as a unit at the top of the show, Russell G. Jones, Julian Rozzell Jr., Tonye Patano, Patrena Murray and Roger Robinson as the “Chorus of Not Particularly Desirable Slaves,” places bets on whether or not Hero will go to war. Nobody has any money, so they wager things, a spoon, or madly, a banjo. They’ve been promised a coin each if they show up to wave good-bye. They’re certain of beatings if Hero refuses to go. It’s a satisfying portrait of community — each character addressing us directly, flashing assessments, secret observations — contradictory and all true.

I am happy to report that not all characters in this story are human. Hero’s much-talked-about dog, Odd-See, missing in “Part 1,” finally appears (entering by that long ramp) in “Part 3.” While perhaps not seven times faster than the people onstage, Odd-See (a show-stopping Patrena Murray) is very fast, loquacious, and capable of coloratura moral distinctions, a splendid talking animal.

I must mention the contribution of the brilliant musician (and the show’s music director and arranger), Steven Bargonetti. Before the narrative begins, throughout the evening as incidental music, sometimes as song, at exactly the right moments, music is pressed out of the story. Bargonetti plays guitar, banjo, and sings, always attending, always visible, often saluted by the characters. The very good music is composed by the playwright.

There is a love rivalry. I don’t want to spoil it. Mum. Sameerah Luqmaan-Harris is very good as Penny, and Larry Powell also good as Homer, a character who urges Hero to a kind of freedom expressed imperatively, “Steal yourself.”

But again, about Michael McKean’s performance: On opening night at a certain point there were shrieks of laughter. Colonel is a sadist and murderer. It’s a portrait of authority that is all too familiar in America. The conception of this character, and his rhetoric, are deeply, perversely funny. When a white plume comes out of its case, watch out, a comic master has begun to demonstrate the art. But mastery of many kinds is at work in this vision.

Colonel has offered “freedom” to Hero in exchange for war-service as a valet. What kind of freedom would that be, if it comes? Others attempt freedom, in this evil time, by other, equally desperate means. There’s a hint of the consequences at the surprising conclusion of this installment.

Mark Taper Forum, 135 N. Grand Ave., Downtown; Tues.-Fri. , 8 p.m. ; Sat. 2:30 & 8 p.m. ; Sun. 1 & 6:30 p.m. No public performances April 26-28, through May 15. (213) 628-2772, centertheatregroup.org. Running time: Two hours 15 minutes with an intermission.