DUBLIN, NC -- When you
get a first look at Bladen County, they don't exactly seem to be
hurting
for space. Farmland stretches out on either
side of Highway 87 once you finally get past Fayetteville, as the
road ambles south by east toward the coast. The terrain's flat; the
cloudless sky is broad. Even by the most ambitious driving you're
still an hour away from shoreline, but the soil already reflects
the change, as Piedmont red increasingly gives way to loamy shades
of black, gray and white. The corn's a little less than hip-high
just now; the tobacco is still pretty low to the ground.
But when it
comes to civic space--a neutral place where
a people can come together to deliberate and lay hands on the
issues of the day--Dublin, population 250, home of the Houston
Peanuts outlet store, the S&J Grill, Bladen Community College
and little else besides, is just as short on it as--well, as
we too often are.
The modest community college campus is all but deserted Friday morning,
May 21, as Raleigh's Justice Theater Project sets up shop inside
the auditorium, a '70s-style brick, painted iron and cinder-block
affair. Inspection has revealed three working electrical circuits
and eight functional lighting instruments. Hundreds of folding chairs
have been placed on the broad pine floor between the theater's permanent
seats and the stage--a floor on which a basketball court is marked
out in fresh green and yellow paint.It's not the most minimal venue in which the Project has staged A
Lesson Before Dying in recent months. That would have been
the cafeteria in Jacoba Hall at Raleigh's Franciscan School,
where we caught the group the weekend before. Folding chairs
were set up in a semicircle around the open entrance to an antechamber
used as a chapel. Improvised floodlights shone down on three
simple scenes before the entrance. A park bench stood off to
the left, a table with two chairs far right. Between then, in
front of three gray panels, a jumble of crates and boxes stood
behind another wooden table and a couple of folding chairs, to
represent an unused storeroom in a jail. On that humble but sufficient set, under improvised tech in a
similarly improvised venue, unfolded what was arguably the region's
strongest show of the season. Regular readers will note this production achieves the first five-star
rating since we instituted this system last September. It is our
highest recommendation, and denotes uninterrupted excellence across
a production, in script, direction, ensemble, individual acting
and stagecraft. Such work provides a clear example to audiences
and the community of practice--not only of what regional theater
is capable of at its best, but why none of us should be ever fully
satisfied with anything less: When theater works, it's this good.
When it is this good, what seems at times to be an insurmountable
distance between lives and peoples can be reduced. Which is why it's particularly ironic that this production has
had to seek shelter in the area's churches and schools, in three
one-and two-night stands at Cardinal Gibbons High School and The
Franciscan School, before the invitation came last month to visit
Dublin. Company management hopes to bring this production back
to the region for its first conventional two-week run in June--but
can't confirm the dates or venue at this writing. The electricity that crackled in the opening scene between Torrey
B. Lawrence (as teacher Grant Wiggins), Jackie Marriott (Miss Emma,
godmother of the condemned) and Michael Keough (as racist Sheriff
Guidry) put all on notice of what was to come. As keenly developed
and directed by Deb Royals, their sharply defined characters remained
in conflict over the treatment of prisoner Jefferson (Kareem Nemley).
Further fireworks came when Reverend Ambrose (memorably played
by Antuan D. Hawkins) squared off against a humanist Wiggins over
what a dying man should be taught. Rock-solid support from Barbette
Hunter and Sean Brosnahan enhanced an existential world in which
death may be as certain as injustice, but human worth and dignity
can yet be salvaged. Before the show in Dublin, another guest spoke with unique authority
on life under such circumstances. After his retrial and release
from Death Row in February, Alan Gell returned to Dublin to advocate
for a moratorium on the death penalty. After the show, I asked
him for his reaction to A Lesson Before Dying:
AG: I saw it for the very first time in Raleigh and I've
got to admit it was disturbing. Basically what I'm watching is
an innocent man being executed. Being sent to Death Row, I saw
a number of people executed. Some I had befriended. To again see
somebody executed just kind of reopened up a wound.
The Independent: You obviously have an insight into this world that I and my readers
don't have--
I would hate for you to ever have to see the things I've
seen. I know we've had some really, really bad things happen. I
know we have a system that's willing to kill innocent people in
order to keep the secret that they were innocent.
If
there's a moment in that play you could say, "There, they really
got it right..."
The whole play, really. One of the worst parts of the play
for me was where they find out that the guy is actually innocent.
We saw the cop was sitting there. He's heard that he was innocent.
He hears every bit of it. He hangs his head--and he's sad to hear
it. But he doesn't run to the sheriff. He doesn't run to the courthouse.
And that's exactly the way things worked for me. Everybody heard it. Everybody knew it. But nobody did anything
about it.
That's got to be one of the most accurate parts of the play for
me.
If I ask you what the show got right, I have to ask you what doesn't
show up on stage-- maybe what can't show up there.
The pain of the person that's innocent sent to Death Row.
The pain his loved ones and parents have to go through. When an
innocent person is sent to Death Row, you're creating two victims.
The person that was killed and the person sent to death row to
die. I don't think there's any way to convey that pain I went through
on Death Row.
Reviews & Openings
NOTABLE OPENINGS:
The Man Who Tried To Save The World, Burning Coal Theater,
Kennedy Theater, BTI Center, Thursday-Sunday, through June 13,
$15-$12, 834-4001;
Paper Hand Puppet Intervention, two shows
Saturday, May 27: Duke Gardens Amphitheater at 11 a.m., and Chatham
Mills, Pittsboro, at 8 p.m.
REVIEWS:
*** Jacques Brel is Alive and
Well and Living in Paris, Raleigh Little Theatre--Since this
was my first exposure to the songs of Jacques Brel--and I really
didn't care for most of them--I'm probably not the best person
to ask about this 1967 musical. Like Smokey Joe's Cafe (coming
to RLT next month), Jacques Brel is a plotless two-act
collection of songs illustrated by a singing quartet. I can say that Heather Powell, Don Smith and Olive McKrell were
in fine voice, with somewhat weaker vocal work and acting from
Alan Seales. And Julie Florin's orchestra was exuberant during
Brel's raucous celebrations and satires--but tentative at times
interpreting his darker themes. I
did appreciate the artistic schisms in "The Desperate Ones," "Timid
Frieda" and "Old Folks." But where such world-weary songs hit a
contemporary emotional--and political--nerve, similar ones struck
me as merely maudlin.
Between these, Jacques Brel ascended
the absurdist's merry-go-round in delightful send-ups like "Madeleine" and "The Middle Class." Still,
at the end I wondered of these songs' impact in the original French.
Though some critics will say shows like this should make the case
for a songwriter, musical tastes remain an individual affair. A
previously cultivated love for Jacques Brel's songs probably is
required to get the most out of this work, but as things stand,
I saw enough glimmers in Jacques Brel to make me wish I'd
had one. (Thursday-Sunday, through May 30. $15-$11. 821-3111.)