Review: THE FIRST DEEP BREATH at Geffen Playhouse

Once more into the Westwood marathon breach, dear friends, or fill up these walls with the numbest of derrieres! Wasn't it just last November that The Geffen Playhouse treated L.A. audiences to the West Coast premiere of Matthew Lopez's two-part, nearly seven-hour epic, THE INHERITANCE. Following the Vinny Deponto show MINDPLAY, the Geffen is back with another long sit: the West Coast premiere of Lee Edward Colston II's play THE FIRST DEEP BREATH which, including its two intermissions, clocks in at just under four hours. If this kind of programing is to continue, the administrators at 10886 Le Conte Avenue may need to consider rechristening their institution the Geffen Opera House.

And, indeed, given the heightened emotions and nuclear climaxes of Colston's play, there is something almost operatic in scope about THE FIRST DEEP BREATH. Yes, there are moments of quiet and of peace certainly - instances where characters and audience members alike are encouraged - hell, practically begged - to just. Stop. And. Breath. But more often, the members of DEEP BREATH's Jones family are turning over or unleashing years (or even decades) worth of pent-up frustration, rage, resentment, lust, you name it. Never boring despite its length, DEEP BREATH often feels like two or three plays shoehorned into a single evening and not always with the strongest of plotting. But say this about Steve H. Broadnax III's eight-person cast (which includes Colston himself): they act the stuffings out of this material.

The play actually kicks off with a bang, a loaded, expository sermon preached by Pastor Albert Melvin Jones III (played by Herb Newsome) of the Mother Bethel Baptish Church in Philadelphia. Pastor Albert is mid-way through a message about Christ's disciples when he detours to address 1. the untimely death of his favorite daughter, Diane, 2. The disgrace of his son, Albert IV, who is headed to jail for a "despicable crime", and 3. the news that his wife is suffering from a deteriorating medical condition. Despite all this, the good reverend extorts his congregation "Peace and be still." Fast forward six years and we get to witness how much Pastor Albert is able to follow his own advice. (Hint: not so well).

Within the house of Jones, Albert's wife Ruth (Ella Joyce) is battling Alzheimer's and is ministered to at home sometimes by her children (who she often doesn't recognize) but mostly by her sister Pearl (Deanna Reed-Foster) who essentially runs the house and is in everybody's business. Albert and Ruth's daughter Dee-Dee (Candace Thomas) - Diane's identical twin - is a corrections officer whose relationship with her medical worker boyfriend Leslie (Brandon Mendez Homer), seems to be progressing nicely even though it's being kept a secret from the rest of the family. Younger son AJ (Opa Adeyemo), age 17, is a talented high school athlete who is being groomed by his father to eventually take over running Mother Bethel. That's not necessarily what AJ wants, but patriarch Albert is not one to be challenged.

A service honoring the six-year anniversary of Diana's passing is on the horizon and Albert is also deep in talks with city officials and politicians about a major expansion project for his church. We drop in as anything-but-prodigal son Albert Melvin Jones IV, AKA Little Albert (Colston) has been given parole and is about to return home. Albert, who blames Little Albert for Diana's death, is anything but welcoming. Little Albert's embracing of a new faith and changing his name to Abdul-Malik doesn't help matters.

After six years away and not much contact with his family, Abdul-Malik now occupies an uneasy position in a house that no longer feels like home. Convicted of raping a white woman, he's a sex offender who can't easily find a job. The one person who is every bit in his corner is longtime friend Tyree Fisher (Keith A. Wallace) who Abdul-Malik deputized to help raise A.J. while Abdul-Malik was in prison. AJ and Tyree have become very close, leading to resentment from Abdul-Malik that his place as AJ's brother has been usurped. Oh, and the family is getting ready for a Thanksgiving feast which Aunt Pearl will cook. Bring on the holiday cheer!

Other than the opening prologue, the entirety of the action takes place in the Jones's Germantown house, an open three-level structure designed by Michael Carnahan with yawning stairways, a basement used primarily for playing video games and a central dining area for the Turkey Day dinner. We rarely see any action take place in any of the bedrooms, although truthfully, if one or more of the Joneses had employed the good sense to actually go into a bedroom and lock the door, easily 1/3 of DEEP BREATH's complications might have been averted.

There is much to unpack here and to plunge too much more deeply into the plot would give away key plot revelations. Suffice to say that with the possible exception of Leslie, just about every character we meet is living a compromised life and is therefore a simmering cauldron before Colston's script manages to set it ablaze. Some of these circumstances feel organic while others come off as hugely contrived.

In a play stuffed to the gills with meaty roles, the playwright is playing one of the juiciest. Abdul-Malik's return ignites a powder keg that was probably destined to detonate regardless. As a human being , Abdul-Malik reveals himself gradually and he's a deep and complicated man: convict, poet, brother, son and keeper of secrets. Colston embodies him with equal parts fire and sensitivity.

Interspersed amidst the melodrama and occasional plot clunkiness are several scenes that pack a real emotional wallop, notably a beautiful music-infused interlude that shows - in three locations - the three Jones siblings breaking free: Dee-Dee singing a song mourning her sister, AJ physically cutting lose and Abdul-Malik drumming.

Reprising the role of Aunt Pearl from the play's world premiere at Chicago's Victory Gardens Theater, Reed-Foster brings earthiness and bawdiness to Aunt Pearl that can bring the house down just as definitively as her third-act admission can tear your heart out. And while I do not for one nano-second believe that any woman six years into a battle with Alzheimer's is capable of the kind of outburst that Ruth executes here, seeing the magnificent Ella Joyce tear into the second act closing scene is something to watch.

In the cries of Abdul-Malik and AJ seeking the love and approval of a stern and disapproving father, one hears occasional echoes of the characters of August Wilson. But Albert Jones is no Troy Maxon. Newsome taps into the man's loathsomeness and obliviousness to his own hypocrisy, but not so much into Pastor Albert's magnetism. Ultimately, like his children, we spend much of the play left waiting for him to be taken down.

And, yes, after a very long time spent in close quarters with the Jones family in this admirable but not shattering play, there is unquestionably relief at being let out onto the street again, given room to take a deep breath of our own.

THE FIRST DEEP BREATH plays through March 5 at The Geffen Playhouse.

Photo of (L-R) Lee Edward Colston II, Candace Thomas, Ella Joyce, and Opa Adeyemo by Jeff Lorch.

To post a comment, you must register and login.