Native Son
Reviewed by Lovell Estell III
Antaeus Theatre Company
Through June 6
RECOMMENDED
When it was published in 1940, Richard Wright’s groundbreaking novel about the tragic undoing of Bigger Thomas caused an outburst of reaction and controversy. Native Son‘s unsettling depiction of racism, poverty, and class conflict in America have been surpassed by few in impact and stature over the years. Critic Irving Howe wrote, “The day Native Son appeared, American culture was changed forever…. Richard Wright’s novel, brought out into the open, as no ever had before, the hatred, fear and violence that have crippled and may yet destroy our culture.”
In this atypical adaptation, playwright Nambi E. Kelly eschews linear story-telling, and after a harrowing prologue that discloses Bigger’s pitiful end, confronts the audience with the horrific crime at the hub of the story: an unintentional murder. After taking a job as a chauffeur for the wealthy, white Dalton family, Bigger (Jon Chaffin), returns to the home after an evening of riding around with their intoxicated, coquettish daughter Mary (Ellis Greer), and half-wrestles her to her bedroom. When Mary’s blind mother (Gigi Bermingham) enters looking for her daughter, he panics, terrified of the sordid implications of the moment — along with losing his job — and accidentally smothers Mary in attempting to keep her quiet. Soon after, he bundles the corpse up in a blanket and disappears.
From there, the story moves back and forth through time, with a spate of scenes that tell the larger story: Bigger’s family life, and the impoverished circumstances and environment of his South Side Chicago neighborhood; his chumming around with his gang buddies as they plan a robbery; the interview with Mrs. Dalton for his new job; the fateful night out driving around with Mary and her communist boyfriend Jan (Matthew Grondin); the harried flight from the law, which resulted in a second crime, the horrific murder of his girlfriend, Bessie (Mildred Marie Langford).
This all unfolds with blazing intensity and is relayed from the lens of Bigger’s point of view. Kelly attempts to explore the “double consciousness,” that W.E.B Dubois identified as the psychological state of black people living in a racist society. To this end, she adds an additional character, the Black Rat (Noel Arthur), Bigger’s sinister, alter-ego that shadows and interacts with him, serving up advice as well as stinging mockery and condemnation throughout. The narrative isn’t always easy to follow and gets confusing and even awkward on occasion.
As scripted here, Bigger’s seething hatred and rage over racial oppression is too heated (as is Chaffin’s performance at times) and the character lacks compensating complexity and dimension. As such, it makes him less sympathetic and convincing.
Notwithstanding these reservations, this is a powerfully engaging and dynamic production, featuring an ensemble that does excellent work under Andi Chapman’s direction. The production’s design elements are top notch and skillfully integrated. Adam R. Macia’s black and white videography bluntly accentuates the dichotomy of Bigger’s world (the snowfall evoked while Bigger is fleeing from the law is markedly effective). Edward E. Haynes Jr.’s set evokes a fittingly dismal multilevel cityscape, with a back wall that works efficiently to display Macia’s video images. Equally impressive is Jeff Gardner’s robust sound design and Andrew Schmedake’s clever lighting.
Kiki & David Gindler Performing Arts Center, 110 E. Broadway, Glendale; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; Mon., 8 p.m., May 7, 14 & 21.; through Jun. 6. (818) 506-1983 or www.Antaeus.org. Running time: 90 minutes with no intermission.
