Initially, I had the jitters about reviewing Grandma’s Jukebox. Obviously the show was very much about music, and I’ve just never been really into music; I’d rather be reading. I didn’t even own a stereo in college! But I love theater so I arrived at the opening with an open mind and expectations.

The first acts established the groundwork: the four grandchildren are gathered to hear their family friend Richard, a lawyer, explain Grandma B’s estate. J Michael Wright portrays Richard’s excruciatingly awkward efforts to gain acceptance into the family circle, but the others form a closed wall. 

Jessica (played by Jessica Brooke Seals), as the eldest, assumes she will mount Grandma B’s matriarchal throne. She’s lost the respect of the other kids, however, by her submission to her domineering and chronically unemployed husband.

The play, written and directed by Michelle Renee Bester, is grounded in two cornerstones of African American life: family and music. Aeriel Williams as Parker gives a lovely rendition of “Song for Mama”, establishing that Parker’s overwhelming grief has silenced her, isolating her in a cocoon of mourning.  

After this poignant offering, Mikey, exuberantly played by Blake Reasoner, galvanizes us with James Brown’s “I Got the Feelin’”, then he and Chris (Vincent Jordan) manage to top it with their dancing as they crank out Michael Jackson’s “Beat It”.

Vincent Jordan’s Chris bares his pain and rage in PJ Morton’s “Heavy”, revealing how he’s manacled by a gang-ridden past, particularly the shackle of being labeled ‘felon’.

The pain of these four people’s personal traumas has been ignited by their bereavement, and each acts out their pain by blaming and belittling the others. Into this crucible steps Richard, the bumbling white guy, to inform them that Grandma B’s will has a condition: no one can inherit until they undergo family therapy. Richard frosts the cake by saying he’s been trained as a ‘family mediator’ and offering his services.

The following scenes intersperse therapy sessions with conversations. Jessica confronts her shiftless husband with “Hurt Me So Good” and Mikey (he’s NOT Michael! Michael is the abusive father that Grandma B rescued him from) and Chris rock the stage with “Ball of Confusion”.

Meantime, the jukebox sits in the background, and we’re wondering why this piece of furniture has been honored by the play’s title. After all, with the support of musicians Oscar Brown Jr (guitar/bandleader), Adam Sherrod (keys), Mark Miller (bass), and Myron Cherry (drums), this cast sparkles and shines performing each number. 

Then Parker is wistfully singing “I’ll be There”, when … But no. That would be telling.  Suffice it to say, the jukebox earns the title.

The finale, a roof-raising ensemble performance of “Before I Let Go”, reminds us that family love is not constrained by genetics, race, or personal quibbles; a reminder we all need from time to time.

There are a couple of things I’d like to have seen highlighted more.  The first couple of scenes were a bit slow, the singing not quite up to the performers’ rousing best, and the humor a bit forced.  This resolved as the cast relaxed and settled into their performances, and was blown away completely when Chris and Mikey pounded out James Brown and Michael Jackson. 

The playwright’s stated intention is to display ways for healing generational trauma, but the traumata explored were limited to the current generation.  I think “Grandma’s Jukebox” could have delved deeper into intergenerational trauma and recovery.

The artistic team is Executive Producer Jackie Taylor, writer/director Michelle Renee Bester, Robert Reddrick as music director, and Oscar Brown Jr leading the band.  The design team – Bek Lambrecht (set), and Denise Karczewski and Marquecia Jordan (costumes) showed welcome minimalism, simply dressing the room as home and the players as family, with a couple of quirks like Parker’s blankie and Mikey’s exuberant colors.

“Grandma’s Jukebox” plays through June 26 at the Black Ensemble Theatre, continuing the 2022 “Season of Excellence: Season of Healing and Joy”.  If a musically torpid white girl like me can be brought out of her seat by “Grandma’s Jukebox”, then a music lover’s cup will be running over.