In Review: "Slave Play"
/Fulfilling another of my promises for the second year of The Glamorous Life Blog, we begin my In Review series with Slave Play by Jeremy O. Harris.
[*Quick note about In Review: I’m calling this series “In Review” and not an “actual” review because: I am not a paid theatre critic. I firmly believe that everyone has opinions and a voice and, therefore, has the ability to write a critical analysis if they so choose. However we should distinguish between paid critique and non. “In Review” is merely my take in looking back upon the work I have experienced, which I hope you will find interesting and informative!]
I had put off seeing Slave Play for as long as I could, which was in large part due to the inability of my peers to describe to me anything about the play without “giving it away” and this idea that “it just has to be experienced.”
That sort of vaguery is off-putting to me and, alas, I fell victim to my own stubbornness yet again, putting it off until last weekend. And I really really wish I hadn’t. (Slave Play closes this Sunday 1/19)
To Provoke
The description of Slave Play on the website for the Broadway production states:
“Jeremy O. Harris, “a major new voice in the American theater” (Chicago Tribune), brings to Broadway the “raw, revelatory, and revolutionary play” (The Daily Beast) that stunned audiences with a sold-out run at New York Theatre Workshop. Directed by two-time NAACP and Obie Award® winner Robert O’Hara, SLAVE PLAY is “one of the best and most provocative new works to show up on Broadway in years” (The New York Times).
At the MacGregor Plantation, nothing is as it seems, and yet everything is as it seems. It’s an antebellum fever-dream as three interracial couples converge to rip open history at the intersection of race, love, sex, and sexuality in 21st-century America. Don’t miss this production that “reimagines the possibilities of what theater can give us” (The New York Times).”
Provocative.
That word has been used repeatedly in media and advertising to describe this piece. Provocative: To Provoke.
And I can certainly see how this piece would be provocative to those who are unaware of what they are about to experience and are not open to the possibilities of the uncomfortable. And you should be prepared to be uncomfortable.
The Playbill includes a forward written by Morgan Parker called “A Note On Your Discomfort.” The forward begins and ends with:
“This might hurt. This could prod open regrets & secrets & what you find could be a shock. But there’s nothing in Slave Play that part of you doesn’t already know. […] Slave Play is a radical study in American memory: the psychologies of the prized & of the oppressed; the grateful & the entitled; who’s top, who’s bottom; who speaks, who can’t, & who betta listen.”
I quote this here, for there is no better description of what this show is and what this show does. It’s spot on.
So is the show provocative? Yes, but only if you need to be provoked.
What I mean is: If you entered the theater closed off, not ready to see and learn and listen, and not prepared to take in characters and situations that were going to be difficult, then yes, this play will poke and prod until you open up with a painful gash in your brain and/or heart.
And from what I could see and hear of some audience members around me, this was the case for a few people. Their discomfort radiated off of them as we left the theater. And that is powerful.
If a show can do that, a lot of things are going right.
To Elicit
I remarked to several people after seeing the show last weekend that I’ve never been in a Broadway theater before Slave Play (that I can recall) where the audience was split evenly 50% Black and 50% Not.
And I loved this.
Broadway theater has a tendency (read: racist tendency?) to create shows for specific audiences, which they refer to politely as “demographics.”
“This show is for the lovers of Campy Theatre”
“This show is for the more conservative folk”
“This will appeal to serious theatre lovers”
And then this one that I hear it relatively often…
“This one is for the Black audiences”
Ah.
Slave Play breaks this down. This is a show that is purposefully meant for everybody to see. And based on what I’ve heard about audience make up, they were getting this wish performance after performance.
Not that everyone would like or appreciate this show. I won’t even pretend that to be the case. But it’s meant for specifically Black and Not-Black audience members to experience together, side by side in the same room. And this gave the show even more power.
For those who came to the show open and ready to experience, learn, and listen - which most of my Sunday evening audience seemed to - this show elicited many an emotion and response.
It was an absolutely fascinating and wonderful experience to be able to observe, not only my own responses to what was happening onstage, but the collective and individual responses of those around me as well.
There were moments that everyone in the theatre reacted to (with laughter, shock, head nods, etc.).
There were moments that only the young people responded to (snaps were common).
There were moments where the Black women in the room shouted out in agreement.
There were moment when the older White men in the room gasped collectively.
And so many more.
How often do you get the chance to experience observing the collective reactions of people who are coming at difficult material from a completely different (or even opposite) viewpoint from yourself?
Theatre can do this???
Slave Play, at least, certainly did.
To Listen
You may have noticed that I have not remarked personally about my responses to the content of the show itself.
This is correct.
There is only one thing I want to remark on, and you’'ll see why in a moment. (***Spoiler Alert for anyone who doesn’t want information about the show’s content***)
About 2/3 of the way through the play, the protagonist Kaneisha tells her White, British partner Jim that he is a Virus.
When she first says this in a rant, it seems that she means just him, personally. But as this idea continues to develop for her, Kaneisha comes to realize that the Virus idea is far more encompassing than that: it’s White Men, or it’s White People, or it’s Anyone who represents the Oppressors, both past and present.
This is a central theme of the play, and one that is articulated in several different ways through the characters’ interactions. And it’s a powerful one.
Every time, those being told this information (sometimes in accusatory fashion, sometimes not) fall into a knee-jerk reaction of attempting to dismantle this idea, distance themselves, and remind that they are not their ancestors. But ultimately none of that matters.
What I took away from this idea is that - no matter how we feel personally about this matter as non-Black people - there is a collective consciousness in Black America that views non-Black people as Oppressors. And we cannot and should not argue with this.
Not only is it true in so many ways, but we have collectively been putting down Black voices for centuries.
We need to shut up and listen.
And so that’s what I intend to do here.
I’ve nothing I can add to Jeremy O. Harris’ voice, story, characters, and experiences that would provide any further value. So, I will simply say thank you and prepare myself to hear what I’ve previously been unable or unwilling to hear.
To Lift Up
All voices matter, but some voices get far more attention than others.
We need to lift up more voices and experiences that are not our own.
“[…] who speaks, who can’t, & who betta listen.” - Morgan Parker
