A Review of the Goodman's Production of August Wilson's "Radio Golf"

"Wilson's last play shoots straight into the bunker"
Published in the Chicago Maroon on January 26, 2007

Too much of the praise of August Wilson is based on the fact that he wrote a play about the black experience for each decade of the 20th century. Not enough of the praise discusses the uncanny ear for the spoken word, fully realized characters, and flawless ability to weave the real with the spiritual that made Wilson one of the most accomplished American playwrights, black or white, of the past half century. Composed before his death at age 60, Wilson’s final play, Radio Golf, premiered Tuesday at the Goodman Theatre, the only American company to have produced all 10 of his plays. With its season pitched as “Celebrating August Wilson,” the environment was so commemorative that it would make any critic feel uncomfortable about fairly addressing the production at hand. Maybe that was intentional because there’s no way of hiding the fact that Radio Golf is an absolute train wreck.

There were signs that this was coming. In The New Yorker’s review of the play’s New Haven premiere in May 2005, John Lahr commented, “By the time Radio Golf makes it through one or two more productions, if he’s true to form, Wilson will have discovered his play; it will be more focused, more poetic, leaner, and more fun.” Three months later, Wilson announced he had liver cancer; two months after that, he was dead. As a result, the perfectionist Wilson was unable to fine-tune the play, and consequently, Radio Golf accomplishes none of the goals Lahr hoped it would.

Radio Golf , the 1990s chapter of the Wilson saga, features characters unfamiliar to past Wilson plays. Instead of hard-working, embittered have-nots, we get a couple of haves. The play centers around Harmond Wilks, a black entrepreneur born into wealth who, with mayoral aspirations, has plans to revitalize Pittsburgh’s decrepit Hill district with the help of Starbucks, Whole Foods, and Barnes & Noble. He and his business partner, Roosevelt Hicks, play golf, and Harmond’s wife, Mame, is up for a position in the governor’s office.

The only thing holding back the operation is a crazed old man named Elder Joseph Barlow, who claims ownership of the run-down 1839 Wylie Avenue that is about to be demolished for the new apartment complex. As Barlow’s claim increasingly gains legitimacy, Harmond is faced with a political and ethical decision he does not initially see coming.

Wilson’s greatest strength was his impeccably precise dialogue. Although some clumsy phrases appear in the first act, Wilson’s intermittently brutal and hilarious dialogue throughout the first act enhances a building plot, and by intermission, the play leaves a lot of hope for a gripping conclusion.

Unfortunately, the play collapses so disastrously in the second act that it’s almost painful to watch. The main problem stems from Harmond’s maniacal decision to attempt to save the house and ruin his career. Although such a decision may be in line with the spiritualism of Wilson’s past works, it feels entirely out of place in a play set in the ’90s.

In the past, Wilson possessed a remarkable ability to understand the strengths and weaknesses of his characters. It’s depressing, then, to see him misjudge his characters to such a degree. It’s not only Harmond, as Roosevelt inexplicably turns from an ambitious right-hand man to a racist robber baron, and Mame decides to leave Harmond, then to stay with him, then to leave him again without reason over the course of one monologue. Add that factor to that the fact that the play languishes about 45 minutes too long, and we’ve got a bona fide flop on our hands.

It may seem fair to give Radio Golf the same treatment as Eyes Wide Shut and attribute the work’s faults to the creator’s death before the its completion. However, as much as it pains me to say it, I’m not sure if even Wilson could have saved Radio Golf. Wilson’s ability to find a spiritual realm in American life seems out of date, as there’s not much mysticism in the corporate America of 1997. Aunt Esther, the lynchpin of Wilson’s vision for the cultural folklore of African Americans, died in the 1980s (see King Hedley II). The Goodman’s bulletin says that one of the aims of the play was to show how Harmond and Roosevelt struggle with the lack of a sense of African tradition. Yet, by the end of Radio Golf, the play seems less like the work of a lost heritage and more like the work of a playwright who has run out of ideas.

Regardless of the quality of the play, however, it would be irresponsible for a theater company like the Goodman to forgo the completion of Wilson’s cycle if given the opportunity. Thus, director Kenny Leon was put in the impossible position of celebrating the career of a fantastic playwright with the playwright’s weakest work.

Not surprisingly, the brightest spot in the cast is Anthony Chisholm as Barlow, the character most in tune with Wilson’s strengths. Hassan El-Amin tries his hardest to make his character believable, but as with the rest of those working on the production, his best effort is not good enough to salvage the play. In terms of effort, the one exception has to be Michole Briana White as Mame; White’s robotic motion and confused delivery was so amateurish, you had to wonder what that type of performance was doing at the Goodman.

While I’m sure it’s not what Wilson had in mind when writing Radio Golf, the story of a highly successful man with everything going for him who inexplicably gives everything away seems, in retrospect, a bit autobiographical. It’s a shame that such a remarkable career–one of the best American drama has ever seen–should leave such a bitter taste in our mouths.

My review of Uma Productions' "Faith Healer"

"Faith Healer’s excellent showmanship gives audience the razzle dazzle"
Published in the Chicago Maroon on January 23, 2007

While the Chopin Theatre in Wicker Park is a limited space, director Mikhael Tara Garver of Uma Productions has made the most of it and then some in her production of Brian Friel’s Faith Healer. Instead of entering through the theater, the audience is led by crew members through a back alley to the cramped basement, just as you would to attend the services of a real Irish faith healer. That introduction makes the makeshift stage and seating all the more authentic, and if you can ignore the Chicago hipster audience, it sets the mood for the play perfectly.

Faith Healer is a classic of contemporary theater and has recently been brought back into the spotlight by a successful Broadway revival starring Ralph Fiennes and Cherry Jones. Garver has given the play a fantastic, remarkably professional production that belies its humble venue. While the set is used effectively, Garver’s greatest accomplishment comes from making full use of her actors potential.

The play, a series of four monologues delivered by three characters, is masterful particularly for the interaction and contrast between the characters takes on the events and for the emotions which all three discuss. What Frank (Chris Hainsworth) says about his relationship with his mistress Grace (Danica Ivanicek) or his manager Teddy (James Joseph) may not be what Grace or Teddy believes. We hear stories of Grace being barren, of Teddy’s career managing dogs before Frank, of Frank’s struggles with his parents, and of the highs and lows in Frank’s success in faith healing. The same stories become constantly updated and put into a larger perspective with each passing monologue. In fact, the monologues mesh so well that they give a better understanding of the characters and narrative than a dialogue-based play could provide.

Although Frank is the title character and the only one with two monologues, the stars of the performances have to be Ivanicek and Joseph. Frank’s introductory monologue does not imply the instability that Ivanicek immediately insinuates, and we see her struggle, and ultimately fail, to talk her way out of her trapped relationship with Frank. Her performance is a remarkable display of femininity, repression, and neurosis, and Ivanicek can change the meaning of a line with the slightest twitch of her face. Joseph, meanwhile, displays remarkably convincing Cockney showmanship, providing a comical element that does not at all seem shallow when dealing with the tragedies the play unfolds.

Hainsworth’s performance does not compare to those of the rest of the cast. However, though it is not nearly as perfect, as an actor he clearly understands his character and maintains a cool confidence crucial to Frank’s character. Although we can see how he could easily acquire someone’s trust, it’s also clear that we are not quite sure of his motivations. In his first monologue, this seems to violate his main strength as a character; how could anyone trust a man who has such a sinister side?

Of course, Frank is not trying to heal us; he is talking about his life, which leads to another great strength of Faith Healer. We are faced with a man who is discussing his life with remarkable clarity, and we immediately accept this relationship with the character. By the second act, however, the circumstances of his presentation become murkier and even a bit supernatural. When Frank delivers his final monologue, it concludes as a message from beyond the grave. This deception, while not really a secret, makes Faith Healer one of the most creatively structured plays of the last century, maintaining a subtlety possible only in theater.

The play’s writing is so crisp and immediate that even the most casual theatergoer can appreciate it, and considering how strong the performances are in a largely actor-driven play, Uma Production’s Faith Healer is already one of the highlights of the winter season of Chicago theater. That such an exceptional production can come in such a small space from an unheralded theater company is a perfect example of the unique, bottom-up nature of Chicago’s vibrant theater scene. While Broadway in Chicago is experiencing unprecedented levels of success, it would be a shame if the large Loop productions eroded one of America’s most inspiring artistic business models. Even so, if Uma keeps putting out productions like this one, not even Wicked can prevent it from becoming one of Chicago’s elite theaters.