Sunday Night found me pulling easily into the Culver City Hall parking lot for opening night of A Raisin in the Sun at the Kirk Douglas Theater. By the middle of the Act I, I was holding tightly to Thom’s hand and barely let go until curtain. So compelling is Lorraine Hansberry’s play inspired by her childhood move into an all-white neighborhood, you will find yourself silently punctuating each beat of the play with a prayer for each member of the Younger family as they struggle to stay whole. With its full frontal telling of a black family and their dramatic struggle to overcome racism it must have been electrifying when it opened on Broadway on March 11th, 1959. A Raisin in the Sun was the first play written by a black woman and the first ever directed by a black director to be produced on Broadway.
Some might say the themes of race are what drive the beautiful 2012 production at the Kirk Douglas Theater. But under Phylicia Rashad’s deft direction, the themes of longing, bitterness, disillusionment, the fight for dignity in the face of injustice, and the ultimate choice to sell out or hold onto the integrity handed to us by our parents transcend race.
When the Younger family matriarch, Lena (beautifully embodied by Kim Staunton) doggedly fights for the redemption of her son, Walter, she is fighting the fight of every mother who has ever seen desperation clouding the eyes of her child.
Kevin T. Carroll gives not so much of a glimmer of hope nor any mercy to the audience with his staggering portrayal of Walter, whose fool hearted chasing after the dream of buying a liquor store nearly ruins the family. Look closely as he teeters on the edge of the abyss of self-loathing and hatred, and you will see no race – you will plainly see facets of the human condition.
Deidrie Henry shows us the dread and hope of a woman loyal and still in love with her presently unlovable husband. You might find yourself wanting to step up onto the stage to comfort her Ruth and implore her to keep the unplanned baby she contemplates terminating.
And while Kenya Alexander’s Beneatha bombastically navigates a very specific exploration of race identity, her bigger negotiation is between self-doubt, anger, and ultimately joy and hope for all to see. What a woman. What a performance.
A special note of thanks to Scott Mosenson who graciously gives a lovely performance in a thankless role. Well done.
Thom and I agree, this is one of the best pieces of theater we have seen in years. See it! And look for my review of it’s companion play, Clyborne Park opening tonight at the Mark Taper Forum.