Comments on CRT production of Fairview

 

Fairview by Jackie Sibblies Drury is the 2019 winner of the Pulitizer Prize for drama.  It is a play that starts out like “The Jeffersons” and then morphs into a page from “Marat-Sade.” To be more specific we begin with a black family preparing a birthday dinner for Mama. The mood is light, music is playing, dancing is going on.  Then the lights go zap and the young daughter of the family steps out of the scene and addresses the audience with some serious concerns.  As all of the preceding action begins to move backward in time, two white folks appear at the picture window that dominates the back of the set. They peer in and as they watch they begin a dialogue about race and privilege. Their observations become more intrusive as they literally move in and out of the house through sliding cubby doors covered by pictures. Throughout the remainder of the show the judgements get harsher, the stereotypes bolder, the volume louder, and the string of four-letter words more frequent.  To go beyond this is to become a spoiler for the emotionally charged ending that comes right out of the 1970’s and 80’s when “make the audience feel attacked” was the avant-garde finish of choice.    

Fairview is a wonderfully rich title.  It might just be a nice name for a middle-class suburb for whites and upwardly mobile blacks.  But is it “fair” for whites to continue to watch, pressure, and judge African Americans over the long haul of history? What has been the cost and for whom and to whom? Keisha, the young daughter, clearly wants more than she can get from her bizarre family. She feels suffocated in her current environment and pleads in her final monologue, “Will I ever be free?” This put me thinking about other famous dramatic exits and how long they continue to echo or be re-interpreted. I find myself now somewhere between the slamming of the door in Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House and the end of Waiting for Godot when once again the long-awaited savior does not appear.   

Mr. Boseman, the director, has a long list of credits and I can only wonder why he keeps his actors looking to the front so much when he is operating in this tiny three-quarter round space.  His positioning left audience members in the far corners not able to see the face of or hear some critical lines from both Keisha and Suze. The costumes were delightful, but you’ll have to see the show to find out why the prop department had the toughest role.   

 

 

Book Review: The Proof of the Pudding by Rhys Bowen

 

The Proof of the Pudding is the 17^th book in the Lady Georgie mystery series written by prolific authoress Rhys Bowen.  It is a perfect choice when you are looking for something frothy and funny. Lady Georgiana Rannoch and her husband Darcy are two cash strapped royals in the 1930’s. Her Ladyship is a long way down the succession ladder, but royal she is and that does give her a cachet, a bunch of relatives, and a lot of wannabe friends. 

Georgie is now expecting her first child and the couple is living in a country house belonging to her Godfather. A klutzy servant called Queenie is doing what passes for the cooking, but her husband thinks they need a decent chef and she finally decides to hire a French waiter she met in a Parisian Café. His cooking turns out to be so impressive that a neighboring author who dresses like Dracula and lives in a ghastly old mansion hires him out to cook for a special dinner party he is giving. The highlight of the party is a tour of the author’s garden of poisonous plants.  You can guess where that leads. Although the dinner goes well, some of the guests start to feel unwell after they depart and when one of them expires, a police investigation points to the new French cook.

For added spice the guest list at the party just happens to include the mystery writer Agatha Christie and her husband and the young Laurence Olivier and his first wife Jill Edmonds. Given that Mrs. Christie is already a recognized authority on poisons, the two women team up to help solve the case.

Bowen writes with the accurate air of someone born to the Brit gentry and her gentle satire is present throughout the book. Take this description of one of the characters.  His accent was “so frightfully clipped and posh it makes the royal family sound like barrow boys.”  You also need not worry about recommending Bowen’s work to just about anybody. The most vociferous language used is in phrases like  “Oh Golly” or “How jolly.”  What more is there to say?  It is a sentimental and funny mystery by an accomplished author set in the colorful world of Downton Abbey and Noel Coward.   

A good solid four out of five.       

Sometimes You Just Gotta Brag!

 

BOUNDARY WATERS by William Kent Krueger

 

I found this gem in paperback at a used book sale.  It was originally published in 1999 and was the third in a now lengthy series of Cork O’Connor mysteries. Though the arrival of GPS and DNA testing invalidated two of the issues in this novel, the plot, the boundary waters setting, and the characters continue to ring true.     

O’Connor, as we meet him here, is a former county sheriff with a checkered matrimonial past living in the small northern Minnesota town of Aurora. He is drawn into the search for a young and famous pop western singer named Shiloh, who has gone missing in the Quetico-Superior Wilderness. The singer’s mother was a Native American who left town years before to find her future on the west coast.  She was subsequently brutally murdered ten years before the story opens and now the daughter, whose parentage is complicated, has returned to a solitary cabin in the deep woods and may possess memories that could solve the old murder.  O’Connor is hired to join a party of searchers composed of FBI agents, an older man who claims to be the girl’s father, and a local native American and his son.  They in turn are being tracked by a mysterious and cruel assassin. Shiloh, the part native American singer, who is the object of the search has luscious long black hair and Krueger's descriptions of her reminded me of a young Joan Baez.

There ensues a series of cat and mouse games on the remote forest trails and lakes punctuated by killings, narrow escapes, fascinating uses of native survival techniques, and a continued revealing of the complicated backstory that has plunged all of the characters into a “Deliverance” style adventure minus the banjo music.   

Krueger’s descriptions of the natural beauty, the climate, and the dangers of the boundary waters are first rate. His integration of these elements into the lives of the participants and the legends of the First Peoples who settled this area reveals both deep research and great compassion for native Americans.   

 The First People inhabitants bring with them the glorious voice of the Old Ways while emphasizing how the re-telling of those stories can merge the past and the future into a unified myth of survival. The ending ties up the threads but leaves more than enough on the spool to inhabit the several more Cork OConnor adventures that have come after this one.  The only caution I would have is that Krueger  writes out of the hard-hitting Mickey Spillane/Mike Hammer tradition and if you find physical and gun  violence disturbing, you may want to take a pass.    

I still give it a 4 out of 5