After missing this at NYTW, I finally had the opportunity to see this last night. It's a smart, very well acted and directed production, but not nearly as provocative or innovative as its hype suggests. It front-loads the "edgiest" content- the antebellum sexual stuff- into the first half hour. It then shifts and the meat of the piece, the largest part, its heart, reveals itself as something pretty conventional: the crucible ensemble play. You know, the play where a group of characters are placed in a controlled environment they cannot really leave (group therapy, an audition, a competition, etc) and then one-by-one have a major moment. The forward momentum is the fact that you know everyone will get a moment.
It's here that the play disappointed me as a piece of drama. Rhetorically, it's great. It is well-written and makes extremely insightful arguments about racial dynamics. But as a piece of drama... it's a letdown. It's an extremely contrived scenario that does not hold up to any sort of scrutiny, and the characters are less fleshed out people than they are vehicles for these arguments. It strains credulity that three characters each come to such profound epiphanies about their identities and themselves in rapid succession. Harris created an ideal situation for him to make pop-psychological and sociological arguments on his terms. And it gives the actors great showcase moments. But it feels just so... contrived and safe. The black characters' romantic partners are essentially straw men to be knocked down, while their therapist interlocutors are merely necessary for the action.
The last third of the play is the most intimate and raw, the only time we see the characters seem truly human. It's largely a stunning monologue by Joaquina Kalukango, and it's here that Harris' dramatic writing is strongest. It is poetic and evocative, suffused with pathos. But, of course, since this sequence is just Kalukango and Paul Nolan, it means the other characters are denied such humanity.
I could not help but think of two other plays this year that tackled similar themes, though I am loathe to lump these works all together- Fairview and Strange Loop. Of this trio of works by black writers that really interrogate what it means to be black and what it means to be black and live under white supremacy, it makes sense Slave Play is the one to go to Broadway. Its writer is the most charismatic... and the work, despite its hype, is the most conventional. Fairview made its point by deconstructing and then turning the form inside-out. Strange Loop was incredibly specific to the experience of its fat, black, and queer writer and used that to create a musical character study. But Slave Play is- depictions of some fetish-driven sex aside, and despite Harris' provocative posture- oddly accessible. I can't imagine anyone being made uncomfortable by its ideas, though I run in more progressive circles than many in a Broadway audience.
It is giving voice to ideas that aren't really heard on Broadway, and that itself is a big deal. It means it will reach a larger, more diverse audience than it ever could've off-Broadway. But as a work of drama, I can't help but feel it's weighed down by a very thin center.
"...everyone finally shut up, and the audience could enjoy the beginning of the Anatevka Pogram in peace."