Displaying items by tag: august wilson

Director Chuck Smith returns to Goodman with another major August Wilson revival–“Joe Turner’s Come and Gone”. This is the second play in Wilson’s 10-play “American Century Cycle”. Goodman produced the first play in the series, “Gem of the Ocean” in 2022 as well as “Two Trains Running” in 2015. Both directed by Chuck Smith. Returning also is A.C. Smith, a staple of any August Wilson production in Chicago.

“Joe Turner’s Come and Gone” takes place in 1911, in Pittsburgh, where most of August Wilson’s work is set. Staged in a boarding house respectably kept by Seth (Dexter Zollicoffer) and Betha (TayLar) Holly, where their regular lodgers Bynum Walker (Tim Rhoze) and Jeremy Furlow (Anthony Flemming III) keep them busy. When a mysterious man and his young daughter arrive looking for a room strange things begin happening.

Wilson has a gift for turning vernacular into poetry. His world-weary characters speak with a sort of casual beauty that rivals Tennessee Williams. That much is never clearer than when Molly Cunningham saunters into the boarding house. Krystel V McNeil captivates as Molly, delivering every line with seductive authority. The purpose of her character is somewhat ambiguous but she’s a welcomed presence nonetheless.

The mysterious man, Herald Loomis, is in search of his wife Martha who is also the mother of this daughter. Bynum and Seth are skeptical but when supernatural things begin happening, a revelation is exposed that calls into question how free the nation really was in the early part of last century.

As always, A.C. Smith’s commanding performance showcases not only a true talent for reinvention, but a deep understanding of August Wilson’s intentions. The chemistry between director Chuck Smith and A.C. Smith is palpable in everything they work on together.

Wilson wrote epics. And this production feels epic. Though there are thematic overlaps in his play cycle, each are distinct masterpieces in themselves. “Joe Turner” like all of Wilson’s plays feels like classic theater. It combines so many elements from lore to magical realism, but on a Goodman-scale backdrop. What a treat it is to see these works produced to impeccable, if not gold standards complete with dream casting.

Thanks to a special relationship between Chuck Smith and August Wilson, Chicago is a mecca for August Wilson’s plays. Between the Court Theater in Hyde Park and Goodman, you’re likely to see all of them if you stay in Chicago long enough. While each has been presented on Broadway at one time or another, his plays aren’t produced nearly as often as they should. Thankfully Denzel Washington is committed to getting each of the plays in the cycle adapted into a film–so far, also to impeccable standards. 

Wilson wrote essential plays that speak for more than just the African American experience, but rather the entire American experience and where it might be headed. Though the last century was full of strife, Wilson finds triumph in every era. His plays certainly don’t shy from the truth, but they always offer a road to hope. 

Through May 19 at Goodman Theatre. 170 N Dearborn. 312-443-3800.

I’ve often said despite the larger houses producing August Wilson plays, they tend to work better in intimate spaces. After all, Mr. Wilsons’ inspiration came from intimate settings. He would write in bars, cafes, restaurants, and other places where his characters would be right in his face. He would often write long hand and sometimes on napkins to make himself invisible as a writer. It was important for him to catch the dialect, the accents, and the energy of his characters. Mr. Wilson began his career writing for small theaters, schools, and community centers where space was at a premium.

American Blues minimalist production of “Fences” under the direction of Monty Cole is powerful, bold, and beautiful. I love when theaters take chances. No guts, no glory….and there is plenty of glory here.

To contain the largest of emotions within boundaries, Scenic designer Yeaji Kim has created a huge, whitewashed fence reaching the heavens on both ends of the playing area. On the north end it appears to still be under construction. On the south end there is a door leading into the house while when closed is unnoticed. There are 5 cushions for players to be seated when they are not on stage. There are 60 chairs in total on either side of the playing area. It’s akin to a baseball field. The characters are so close you can count the beads of sweat on their brow, their emotions so big, no regular sized fence was going to hold them in.

We get up close and personal with Troy Maxson. Kamal Angelo Bolden’s Troy was not encumbered by anyone who previously played this role. This Troy was much more complicated than I’ve ever seen, FULL STOP. At varying times, this Troy showed love, he showed anger, he showed fear, he was a child, he was a monster, but most of all he showed a vulnerable side. It’s the vulnerability the audience connected with. Despite his ugliness, his meanness, and boorish ways if we look deep into his eyes, we see a man hurt. We see a man who values work more than education. In those rare moments of silence, we see what could have been, and our hearts ache for him.

Playing opposite Troy is the hard-working Rose, his wife of 18 years. She knows this man; she has built her life around him. She soothes over his relationships with his sons.  She is the heart and soul of this family. She cooks, she cleans, she loves. She is saint like in her patience with Troy until she isn’t. We see mini eruptions until it grows too much to control until she loses herself or does she find herself.  Shanesia Davis’ beautifully understates Rose until she can’t anymore. It is some beautiful theatre having a front seat to her emotional build.

A man like Troy Maxson needs all the support he can muster, and no one does it better than his friend and confidant, Bono, engagingly played by Martel Manning. No one could question Troy about his dalliance except Bono. Manning brilliantly steps into the lion’s den and raises the issue. I loved the way his mannerisms changed when talking to Troy about “that gal”.

Troy’s two sons born a decade apart, to two different women are Cory, energetically played by Ajax Dontavius and Lyons, the charismatic William Anthony Sebastian Rose II. Troy treats both men the same the only difference is Cory lives in his home, so he has more control over him.  He verbally abuses Lyons. Special shout-out to Charlie Baker, the Fight & Intimacy Director. Unbelievable stagecraft. The fights and intimacy looked awful real. I almost ducked when Cory was swinging the bat.

Rounding out this family is Gabriel, Troy’s brain damaged brother, played with wonderful control by Manny Buckley. I loved how tight and controlled Buckley played Gabriel. He played the character with great respect for brain damaged people without forfeiting characterization. Gabriel sees what we can’t see. He feels what we can’t feel. Buckley expressed this perfectly.

Stephanie Cluggish’s costumes suggested the times. I especially like what she did with Rose’s funeral outfit. Very inventive.

This production had an air of spirituality, of otherworldliness, I’ve never seen before. This was largely the result of Jared Gooding’s lighting design.  It worked beautifully

In Wilson’s N.Y. Times obituary, he is quoted as telling the Paris Review: “I think my plays offer (white Americans) a different way to look at black Americans. For instance, in ‘Fences’ they see a garbageman, a person they don’t really look at, although they see a garbageman every day. By looking at Troy’s life, white people find out that the content of this black garbageman’s life is affected by the same things – love, honor, beauty, betrayal, duty. Recognizing that these things are as much part of his life as theirs can affect how they think about and deal with black people in their lives.”

Yeah right, let’s hope this is true. In any case, American Blues Theater and Monty Cole has put these characters on full display with all the fury and might deserving of them and a weary America thanks you.

“Fences” runs through Aug. 6 at Theater Wit, 1229 W. Belmont. For tickets visit americanbluestheater.com or phone (773) 975-8150.

August Wilson is best known for a series of 10 plays known as the “Pittsburgh cycle” which chronicle the African American experience in America. For me, Wilson’s greater achievement is giving voice to African American men. Grown African American men over a certain age. Wilson allows his male characters to achieve something he didn’t achieve ...old age. Mr. Wilson died in 2005 at the relatively young age of 60. It is unfathomable what he would have written if given another 10 years. Sadly, too few playwrights write and value older Black men as Wilson did.

“Two Trains Running” takes place during the turbulent 60’s. 1969 to be exact. A time when for every action there is an equal and opposite action. Think Malcolm X and Dr. Martin Luther King. Think LBJ’s war on poverty and Black neighborhoods being burned to the ground. The 1960’s was a time when there were always two distinct trains of thought running at the same time. Wilson made the best of these times without making a boring historical drama. Let’s face it, Black folks had a hard time in the 60’s.

The setting is the Hill District diner of Memphis Lee, scheduled for demolition but not before the city pays the asking price. Memphis (A.C. Smith, in a performance he will be long remembered for) is a recently single man since his wife walked out on him. It doesn’t take long to figure out why. He treats his sole employee Riza like she is a maid. Memphis is a man who remembers what it was like to live in the south, he often mentions it. You would think that he would treat his employee better because of what he has gone through, but no, he subjugates her until you almost feel sorry. Almost.

Riza, (in a strong performance by Kierra Bunch) gives as well as she can take, and she takes a lot. Nothing bothers Riza she has seen it all. She has scarred her legs to deter the attention of men to no avail.  Although she wants the best casket for her friend, she refuses to view the body. Again, those two trains of thought at play.

Holloway (played with wisdom by Alfred Wilson) has some of the evening’s most profound lines as well as some of the funniest. There is a line about the Undertaker West burying people with the same suit that is hilarious. Alfred Wilson has a finely developed sense of humor, and it is put to excellent use here.

Ronald L. Connor cast as neighborhood predator/numbers runner Wolf is a stroke of genius. In a big ass afro it would be easy for Connor to slip into caricature, but he keeps this character real and recognizable. Despite constantly being told not to play numbers in the diner by Memphis. Memphis is one of his most reliable customers…again, two trains of thought. Wolf knowing how seemingly dangerous Sterling is has no problem selling him a gun, on credit no less.

Some of the most beautiful scenes in this play were done by Jerrod Haynes as Sterling and Joseph Primes as Hambone.  Jerrod is a scary Sterling on first meeting him. He has no problem telling anyone who would listen he just got out of the penitentiary. He’s the kind of guy that takes what he wants and is very sure of himself. He operates on no pretense. Joseph Primes has a face that tells one everything they need to know. His Hambone was aware. His Hambone was a fighter. Since I’ve seen the play several times before I concentrated on Hambone when he wasn’t talking. A million things were going thru his head, and they all came back to “I want my ham”. The story of the ham is two trains of thought, Lutz offered Hambone a chicken to paint his fence and if he did a really good job, Lutz said he would get a ham. Hambone felt he did a really good job, Lutz thought different.

Rounding out this coterie of characters is West, the Funeral Owner. In an unrecognizable role Cedric Young reminds us of how he got rich and how he’s gonna stay rich.

The period costumes were done by Christine Pascual…They were excellent. The costumes never got in the way of the story. These characters were real. A special shout to Christine for making sure Riza wasn’t in an afro. In 1969, women were hot-combing their hair and trying to look like Diana Ross and The Supremes. The set by Jack Magaw with the small details informed you that this is Pittsburgh.

Ron O.J. Parsons has done a marvelous job as usual. Proving he knows this language better than just about anyone in Chicago. There are performances here that will last forever “Two Trains Running” is a play one listens to. It stays with you a very long time.

Thru June 12^th at Court Theatre.

Goodman Theatre’s aptly titled season, Homecoming, kicks off with a revival of August Wilson’s “Gem of the Ocean.” Written just a few years before his death, “Gem of the Ocean” is the first chapter of Wilson’s 10-play 20^th Century “Cycle”. This play was originally produced at Goodman Theatre in 2003. Goodman has produced each of Wilson’s ten plays at least once, with some making their world premiere.  

Despite being a native of Pittsburgh, where his plays are set, August Wilson had a unique relationship with Chicago. Revival director Chuck Smith served as the dramaturg on the original production of “Gem of the Ocean” but formed a working friendship long before then. Since 2005, Chuck Smith has produced two August Wilson festivals.

“Gem of the Ocean” captures the African American experience in the first decade of the 20^th Century. The play centers around mystic Aunt Esther (Lisa Gaye Dixon) and a mysterious drifter named Citizen (Sharif Atkins). Romantic tension blossoms between Citizen and Aunt Esther’s housemaid Black Mary (Sydney Charles).

Wilson follows Citizen’s journey from Reconstruction-era Alabama to Free North Pittsburgh. The play makes a direct parallel between the American immigrant experience and the post-slavery African American experience. Much like Upton Sinclair’s Jurgis, Citizen is tricked at every turn upon arrival in bustling Pittsburgh and he quickly becomes discouraged. He seeks refuge and soul cleansing with Aunt Esther and finds a loyal family.

Performances are humorous and complex. Lisa Gaye Dixon fills the space with her enchanting presence, but it’s Sydney Charles in the meeker role of Black Mary who is equally captivating. Charles has an impressive voice and an ageless sense of vulnerability and humor. The two share a contagious chemistry. It wouldn’t be an August Wilson play in Chicago without A.C. Smith though, his hulking appearance and effortless comedy help maintain August Wilson’s balance.

While “Gem of the Ocean” is about class warfare in the 1900s, its themes of injustice and police brutality are as relevant today. Wilson covers a lot of ground in three hours but the mood never feels overwhelming. In fact, there’s a great deal of whimsy. “Gem of the Ocean” begins this cycle with a deep understanding of the horrors of the slave trade. Wilson deeply felt the plight of free, but somewhat lost African Americans in the century after the civil war. He gets to the heart of the American caste system, and why some people choose to perpetuate it. Though there is darkness, there is so much lightness in the warm exchanges and theatrical staging of this ensemble play.

Through February 27^th at Goodman Theatre. 170 N Dearborn St. (312) 443-3800

Booming thunder unleashed by a violent storm marks a scene change in King Hedley II, the sound and fury expressing the clash of deep emotional confrontations playing out as the stage goes to black.

Under the direction of Ron OJ Parson, Court Theatre gives us what is surely a definitive rendition of August Wilson’s 2000 play.

Wilson gives vivid voice to the life of his African American characters, showing them hemmed in and struggling for opportunity accorded readily to others. In King Hedley’s 1980s setting, amid trickle down economics, Americans saw greater divides between rich and poor, and rising mass incarceration. And against this backdrop, Wilson’s characters live life – with all its glory, and all its monumental tragedy, which abounds in the play.

In King Hedley II, the action takes place in 1985 in the backyards of two modest brick homes. Following five years in prison, Hedley (Kelvin Roston Jr.) returns to the home where his aunt raised him, optimistic, and aiming to rebuild his life. He plans to marry Tonya (Kierra Bunch). His aunt died while he was away, and his birth mother Ruby (actress Taylar) is now living in the house.

Hedley plants flower seeds, a perfect metaphor for his aspirations to reclaim his life, then struggles to stop others from trampling his young plants, and dragging him down with pessimism. His mother warns him the soil is too weak. Tonya, already a single mom, rebuffs Hedley’s overtures.

“I got to make it whatever way I can,” says Hedley (Kelvin Roston Jr.). “I look around and say 'Where's the barbed wire?”
“You could cut through barbed wire,” says Mister (Donald L. Conner). “But you can’t cut through not having a job.”

The ninth in Wilson’s ten-part Pittsburgh Cycle, each play takes place in that city, and each in a different decade. A Pulitzer finalist, it earned Viola Davis a Tony in its original Broadway run. I had the chance to see it in 2001 at Goodman Theatre, and barely understood what I watched then.

But at Court I threw down my program and leapt to my feet to cheer and applaud, like the rest of the audience, even before the final spotlight ended. It is that good, and hopefully we the people are better audiences for Wilson than 20 years ago. 

Though August's womenfolk are more guarded than optimistic, there is a hopefulness brought to Hedley by his buddy Mister, who works in a nail factory. Characteristically, Mister is hoping for a raise, that never materializes, even though business is booming. Hedley is in line to work on a demolition job for the City of Pittsburgh, but his employer (presumed to be African American) was denied the contract because the bid was too low, and the city doubted his capabilities.

Hedley and Mister devise side jobs, including re-selling refrigerators and, as opportunities narrow, plan a heist at a jewelry store. The plan and execution will remind you of  David Mamet's American Buffalo.

Into this intriguing setting come two even more powerful dramatis personae: the neighbor Stool Pigeon (Dexter Zollicoffer), a quirky person who is a hoarder, and delivers thundering prophecies drawn in ominous tones from long Bible passages. 

The other arrival is Elmore (A.C. Smith), hoping to recapture his lost love Ruby, and aiming to unburden himself of a secret that Ruby wanted both of them to take to her grave. (No spoiler here.) 

Smith tears up the stage with his larger than life Elmore. But then so does Zollicoffer as Stool Pigeon, a haunting character impossible to forget. And Taylar, Conner and Bunch all deliver remarkably good performances. And Roston gives us a complex, and nuanced portrait of Hedley.  

Wilson, who died in 2005, loads his plays with high-octane dialog. These can be challenging to deliver, or watch – with extra hurdles in understanding the overtones for white people like me. Parsons, working with this great cast, keeps each performance in balance with the others.

This is no small achievement when you realize that any of these characters could be the main protagonist in any other play. And indeed some recur in other works in the Pittsburgh Cycle. Act I of King Hedley II runs 80 minutes; after a 10 minute intermission Act II runs 70 minutes. You will be amazed at how quickly the time passes. Highly recommended for those who like great performances, staging, and a complex play. See King Hedley II through October 13 at Court Theatre in Chicago.

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Common sense dictates doing the right thing. On the surface, that seems obvious, but in August Wilson’s final play, Radio Golf, which premiered in 2005 and is receiving a timely and propulsive revival at Court Theatre, this is not at all clear. Though the characters are archetypal, and the situations contrived, it is precisely these extremes that cast the arguments of the play into sharp relief. What makes sense? No matter which side you choose in this examination of urban redevelopment, there is no outcome that benefits the residents of the Hill District or the protagonists of Wilson’s play, because no matter how far they have come, no matter what their ideals, it is 1997 and they are black and living in a racist America. Unfortunately, Wilson’s play has aged well—though broadly drawn, the events of the play are no less a reflection of American realities than they were two decades ago.

According to the program, director Ron OJ Parson has directed 25 productions of August Wilson’s plays. This is evident in his assured, lyrical work on this production. The characters are detailed, and the poetry of Wilson’s language emerges from the physical language of the blocking, so that the cracks in the sometimes conventional structure do not emerge until long after the final blackout. Though he allows Wilson’s humor to suffuse the evening, Parson has created a powerful and engrossing dialectic that offers much food for thought and few answers. Parson’s interpretation creates a sense of community and warm comradery among the characters, which accentuates the fact that the real threat lies beyond the action onstage. Given the surging poetry of Wilson’s script, it seems that this is the production that Wilson was writing to receive. Parson’s vision is complemented by a design team that is equally meticulous, setting the scene with unobtrusive but finely tuned details. Scenic designer Jack Magaw has created a grimy but well-appointed ground floor office for the Bedford Hills Development, Inc., jammed between neighboring buildings and accessed by a concrete stairwell. There are hints of the grandeur of the past in the tin ceiling and bay window, but the green-painted walls are stained, and the linoleum floor is more practical than elegant. Claire Chrzan lights most of the interior scenes in harsh, bright light, occasionally softened by practicals. She subtly shifts between moods and time, extending the magical realism to the windows of neighboring residences. Costume designer Rachel Anne Healy creates a period-perfect uniform for each character that allows each to evolve according to their fortunes, without veering into caricature. Sound designer Christopher M. LaPorte uses a funk-injected jazz score to set the tone, as well as contributing cool radio tracks and jarring sounds that invade the relative sanctuary of the office from the outside.

The cast of Radio Golf is uniformly excellent. As Harmond Wilks, the real estate developer hoping to bring back Pittsburgh’s Hill District while launching his bid to be mayor of both black and white citizens of the city, Allen Gilmore lends an Obama-esque, unruffled cool to his idealistic character, which gives way to almost petulant panic when he finds himself fighting for a future that seemed more secure than it turns out to be. As his golf-playing partner and newly-minted bank vice president Roosevelt Hicks, James Vincent Meredith is smoothly overbearing and casually abusive, while maintaining a boyish charm and ambition—he goes far enough in his self-serving tirades to draw derision but retains enough humanity to elicit sympathy. As Wilks’ wife, Mame Wilks, Ann Joseph is warm, no-nonsense and imperious; her attempt to open her husband’s eyes to the consequences of his choices for them both is heart-wrenching and powerful. Alfred H. Wilson plays Elder Joseph Barlow with a kinetic physicality that mirrors his scattershot philosophizing, rarely pausing as he reveals a strong gravitational center to his wandering thoughts. James T. Alfred brings comic timing and a self-aware physicality to the almost excessively forthright ex-con Sterling Johnson, who, while he has stopped punching everyone in the mouth to make himself feel good, still seems perfectly capable of doing so if he sees a need. As Wilks finds himself entangled in bonds that he thought had dissolved long ago, and Hicks finds himself presented with ways to turn his race into an asset, the battle lines are drawn, and it becomes clear that all the characters are casualties of a war that is being waged for profit by others, but there are promotions to be had if they join the winning side. As an ensemble, all the actors find the humor and good will in their characters, without allowing them to become bathetic or cartoonish. Though sometimes broadly drawn, each character finds his or her dignity in the sensitive and emotionally grounded portrayals onstage at Court.

Radio Golf alternates between laugh-out-loud (though at times decidedly un-PC) humor and incisive social commentary, spot-on examinations of familial and geographic loyalties and nearly stereotypical portraits of the members of a community and the different paths they take, and director Ron OJ Parsons and his expert cast, supported by a perfectly tuned design team, weave the tonal shifts into powerful, perfectly modulated quintet. On the surface, August Wilson’s final work may seem less haunting and lyrical than the previous plays of the ten-play Century Cycle that it completed, but this production belies that impression. Though some elements may seem facile, when the curtain comes down, one realizes that Wilson left behind a complex and uncompromising challenge for his audience. Wilson was an American who wrote about his country with awe, humor, rigor and compassion. In Radio Golf, he took on the issue of gentrification and redevelopment, and what happens when revitalization becomes disenfranchisement. In Court Theatre’s production, the play is an entertaining, empathetic and unyielding plea for doing the right thing, especially for those who wield the power to do so.

Radio Golf runs through September 30 at Court Theatre, 5535 S. Ellis Avenue, Chicago. Tickets, priced $50 - $74, are available at the Court Theatre Box Office, but calling (773)753-4472, or online at www.CourtTheatre.org.

In an interview in the program, playwright Eugene Lee says that East Texas Hot Links is like a combination of an August Wilson play and the Twilight Zone. But fantasy was a common feature of Wilson’s plays. The new production of Lee’s 1991 play at Writers Theatre in Glencoe, which is slated to run through January, is more like watching Wilson’s Two Trains Running transform into John Carpenter’s Halloween. Under the direction of Chicago theatre treasure Ron OJ Parson, who directed the same play in 1995 and a revival in 1998, a cast of eight delves into the horror lurking just below the surface normalcy of African-American life in Jim Crow Texas. It’s not just the specter of physical violence which haunts these characters, it’s also the psychological effect of living in a society built on terrorizing them.

In 1955 in the rural vicinity of Houston, Charlesetta Simpkins (Tyla Abercrombie) runs a bar she inherited from her father. She has a strict policy of only serving drink and prepackaged food—the men who are her regulars delight in razzing her and each other, and if she cooked better than their wives, they’d likely never leave, but ridicule her all the same. Hanging around as usual is the soft-hearted local landlord, Columbus (Alfred H. Wilson), his brooding much younger brother-in-law, XL (Namir Smallwood), and XL’s boisterous frenemy, Roy Moore (Kelvin Roston, Jr.), who also has a crush on Charlesetta. The big news is that the local plutocrat, Prescott Ebert, is building a highway to Dallas. Columbus has been screwed by the use of eminent domain, but XL has worked for Ebert as a middle manager several times, and he sneeringly declares that he’ll hold out for another foreman job instead of wasting himself on manual labor.

This attitude does not exactly make him popular, particularly as Prescott Ebert is, by reputation, a Klan leader and a serial killer of black people. XL dismisses this as irrelevant; he’s always been paid on time, and that’s what matters. In fact, he’s hooked up Delmus Green (Luce Metrius), a kid with big dreams, with Ebert for some secret work that will be done late tonight. That explains why Delmus is hanging around, attempting to reach Ebert by phone. He’s unsuccessful for the moment, and the other patrons’ conversation meanders over a wide range of subjects. However, those conversations have a way of taking a strange turn due to the presence of Adolph (Willie B.), an elderly blind man whom the others call “Professor” due to his half semester of college education and ability to improvise free-verse. Having taught himself the vampiric psychological and sociological theories that were all the rage in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Adolph links everything to parasitism, death, decay, and consumption in both senses of the word. He’s more fun to have around than you might think.

Rounding out the cast are Buckshot (Antoine Pierre Whitfield), a man who claims to have been much-improved since he was sent to prison for trying to kill a man who called him “Titty-baby,” and Uncle Boochie (A.C. Smith), a mystical gambler who can foretell death. When they all put their heads together they come to the conclusion that there is something extremely wrong with whatever it is XL has offered Delmus to Ebert for. All the actors are fascinating, and Lee’s dense script provides all of them with memorable dialogue, but Smallwood’s XL stands out for the intensity of his greed and fear, and the effort he puts into his compartmentalization. Though deeply loathsome, the character is impossible to look away from. The world these characters inhabit, with scenic design by Jack Magaw, costumes by Christine Pascual, and lights by Kathy A. Perkins, feels full, yet isolated, and a great deal of credit for that has to go to sound designer Joshua Horvath. The sound of animals and wind in the surrounding woods is vaguely unsettling, and reinforces how much of a refuge this building is, as well as its vulnerability. Long before the characters realize their immediate danger, we know there’s something evil out there.

Adolph proclaims that we feed on those who hate us. But in the food chain of east Texas, it’s all too clear to the African-American characters how far down they are. Even literal eating is something that has become psychologically poisonous—Roy defensively announces at one point that he only eats the front feet of a pig. Lee has said that he sees the play as hopeful because of the context that it takes place just a few months before the Civil Rights movement revived, and because the characters unite in an effort to save Delmus. Upon reflection, that’s true, but the hair-raising ending, along with the expertly crafted rising tension which proceeded it, are more likely to dominate the audience’s reaction immediately after viewing than the more implicit themes of awakening to collective action and survival. It is nice, though, that, upon digestion, the audience finds something nourishing in East Texas Hot Links other than human misery. Adolph says we feed on those who love us, as well.

East Texas Hot Links will play in The Gillian Theatre at Writers Theatre, 325 Tudor Court, Glencoe, through January 22, 2017. Running time is ninety minutes with no intermission. Parking is available, and the theatre is within walking distance of the Metra. Audience members who post a Facebook or Twitter photos of themselves with the tags @WritersTheatre and #EastTexasHotLinks will receive $5 cash if ticket was bought in advance. Tickets are $35-80. Showtimes are Tuesdays-Fridays at 7:30 pm, Saturdays at 3:00 pm and 7:30 pm, and Sundays at 2:00 pm and 6:00 pm, with some exceptions. To order, call 847-242-6000 or visit writerstheatre.org. The actors eat peanuts onstage during this show.