Review: Mark E. Leib's WHEN THE RIGHTEOUS TRIUMPH at the Jaeb Theater

My brother-in-law, the late Lynn Swilley, grew up in the Tampa area in the 1950s and 1960s.  He used to tell us how, when he was a child, he used to sneak into the balcony of the Tampa Theatre to watch the picture show.  He chose to do this, he said, because he liked the view of the screen much better from up there.  The movie house was segregated then, and his was the sole white face in that area because he was sitting in the only section black individuals were allowed.  But he chose to sit there in order to watch the films; they did not.

I thought of my brother-in-law’s Tampa Theatre tale, among many other things, while watching Stageworks’ remarkable production of Mark E. Leib’s powerful and gripping WHEN THE RIGHTEOUS TRIUMPH during its final weekend at the Jaeb Theater in the Straz Center. The buzz has kept growing around this play ever since it was first performed a couple of years ago.  But now, with an article in the New York Times, various school shows in a state that wants to whitewash black history, and even an upcoming documentary, it’s on the cusp of being legendary.  Does it deserve so much attention and so many accolades? After seeing the Saturday matinee, the answer to that question is an unqualified YES.     

WHEN THE RIGHTEOUS TRIUMPH centers on the true-life events surrounding the 1960 Civil Rights sit-ins at F. W. Woolworth at 801 North Franklin Street in Tampa.  It’s part docudrama, part history lesson, part “You Are There” episode, part live-action editorial.  It showcases our fine community that, in very tough historic times, worked together to avoid violence while the world changed. You may even feel a sense of city pride after watching it—proud that the city could do the right thing without bloodshed—and you’ll find yourself mightily entertained.  History is seldom this enjoyable.

The sit-ins actually started in Greensboro, North Carolina, when black citizens were denied from sitting at a Woolworth luncheon counter with the white patrons. (They could shop shoulder to shoulder in the store; they just couldn’t sit together to eat lunch in the diner.)  The sit-ins spread to Tallahassee before eventually making their way to Tampa.  Even though it ended peacefully here, it had several scary bumps along the way.  The main organizer, The Reverend Lowry, the NAACP State President, endured harassing, threatening phone calls and even was shot at in his own home.  The KKK and the White Citizens Council tried to thwart things, sometimes in the most extreme, harrowing ways, but failed in the end. And several young protesters balked at the thought of non-violence to get the job done. All of these things were coming together, ready to explode.

But the explosion never came, at least not in Tampa.  Because several heroes—the protesters, attorneys, even our mayor, Julian Lane—chose to be guided by their better angels. 

There’s something about experiencing WHEN THE RIGHTEOUS TRIUMPH  just blocks away from all of the historic happenings re-lived on the stage.  When a character mentions  a cross burning near Blake High School, the audience audibly gasped.  Blake is just a hop, skip and a jump away from the Straz Center, as is the famous Woolworth where our city changed for the good.  It’s a thrill ride through Tampa history, our city’s past coming alive before our eyes.               

Mark E. Leib has written a play that should be shown anywhere, not just in our neck of the woods.  He throws everything in the mix—news alerts, vignettes, projections—but it remains a taut show, crackerjack fast. 

I have one qualm with the script.  The story opens with an amazing moment—where a group of white individuals are sitting in the Woolworth's diner, talking over each other as if in a Robert Altman movie, and then suddenly stop when a black woman enters and (shocking to all of the patrons) orders lunch from the counter.  This is reflected at the end of the play in a similar scene, when the men are talking over each other and the same black woman enters, only this time they don’t silence themselves….they keep on talking.  Progress has been attained. If the play ended there, it would be perfect symmetry.  But unfortunately it doesn’t.  Suddenly there’s a monologue from the waitress who first refused the black woman’s order, and then a quasi-debate between the two about whether the waitress actually is being nice now because she has to or if she wants to, or something like that.  I found this whole portion didactic and unnecessary; let the audience debate it afterwards, not the characters onstage.  We get the victory, the titled triumph, with the black woman ordering from the counter without a fuss.  We don’t need the preachiness after the power of the play and this moment.  Less is more.

The production itself is inspiring, where everything comes together from Christopher Jackson’s creative sound design to Celeste N. Silsby Mannerud’s lighting and Jarrod Bray’s winning set design, from well-chosen projections to the amazing performances.

At the center of this production, part of the reason it works so well, is Clay Christopher’s performance as Reverend Lowry.  Mr. Christopher brings such controlled energy to the part, stoic and passionate at the same time (but you sense that the Reverend never lets his passions take over).  He’s the center of goodness, his strength of character and morality unmatched.  It’s a towering performance, one where we sit in awe wondering if the actor actually channeled the real Reverend Lowry.  He’s that good.  If you recall his sultry show-stopping turn as Frank-N-Furter in last year's The Rocky Horror Show (and who can forget it?), then you will be shocked that this is the same actor.  This goes beyond mere versatility; this is something else.  Other-worldly, maybe even miraculous. 

There’s a key moment in the show where the Reverend Lowry gives an impassioned speech about nonviolent resistance and, contrasting to this on the other side of the stage, a different leader, a young man named Dasher (searingly played by Lance Markeith Felton), also gives a speech.  But Dasher’s words are more fiery, not against using violence if necessary. It’s like the world of MLK and peaceful protest on one side, the intensity of the future Black Panthers on the other.  Two philosophies pushing for the same result; which one will win out?

Kelly Von Shay as the first protester to sit at the counter, Roberta, showcases so much strength and dignity, as well as a hearty portion of sass.  Mark Wildman also does quite well as Clarence, torn between his anger and of being a voice of sanity in such an oppressive world/country/state/city.  There is a harrowing scene in Act 2 when it looks as though Clarence might get lynched by the KKK and hung from a tree way out in Zephyrhills, and he plays the part just right.  Wonderful work all around.

And then there is Glen, a truly frightening racist who wants to not just block the blacks from progressing, but he wants them dead. He heads the “invisible empire” and says things like “Jesus Christ was a white man; he was no Jew.”  Kyle Stone plays this to the hilt, an unblinking pitbull in his villainy (although villains think of themselves as the heroes of their own story, not the bad guys).  Will Rickard and Cody Carlson play his somewhat bungling proteges, sort of an evil Jay and Silent Bob if they had joined the KKK.  Mr. Carlson is always an electric presence onstage, and he is here, although sometimes his role teeters on the cartoonish (so much so that at times you wait for him to laugh like Muttley the Dog being guided by a racist Dick Dastardly). 

Holly Marie Weber more than holds her own as Kimberly, the waitress in the middle of these sit-ins.  Mark Burdette shows a comic flair as Quiller, the frustrated Woolworths manager whose resistance and ultimate compromise help move the true story toward a happy, or at least satisfying, ending.  Chris Plourde is strong and natural as Heath, and David Warner has his moments as Mayor Lane.

Jim Wicker is a ball of enthusiastic energy as attorney Cody Fowler, almost bouncing as he moves back and forth between two sides, feverishly trying to referee them toward some sort of city-altering conclusion. He also gets some of the best lines, as when he reads a shocking editorial from the Tampa Tribune with the headline “Florida Race Relations Have Been Good.”  “For whom?” Lowry asks.  “Jim Crow?”   It’s been a while since I’ve seen Mr. Wicker onstage, and he’s always a joy to watch, especially when he tackles his parts with so much aplomb as he does here.

Director Christopher Jackson and Assistant Director Andresia Moseley do exemplary work, never making a misstep.  This is one of the fastest productions around, the cast working like pieces on a game board, exiting, posing, freezing in place, never missing a beat.  Technically the show is a marvel, with video footage and snippets of music playing during scene changes and  gunfire effects in Act 2 that will knock you out of your chair. 

The audience was all in, sitting on the edge of their seats.  In a standout moment, when a character mentions “the Gulf of Mexico,” the audience burst into applause and laughter; suddenly the world of 1960 merged with today’s America where some want to rename the Gulf, and we realize that six decades ago may not be as far away as we imagined.

Mark E. Leib’s WHEN THE RIGHTEOUS TRIUMPH is a celebration of both our city and of a Civil Rights victory that miraculously didn’t leave any casualties, when good men and women, black and white, worked together to make necessary change.  Sam Cooke would later sing the prophetic “A Change is Gonna Come,” and I thought of that title while watching the show.  65 years later, we’re obviously not there yet, not even close (especially in this state when black history is being forcibly pushed away), but the play shows us that good eventually will win.  Righteousness will triumph.  And we shall overcome.

Stageworks' WHEN THE RIGHTEOUS TRIUMPH ended its run at the Jaeb Theater on March 16th. Photo Credit: @noamichelephotography

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