Review: DETROIT '67 at Signature Theatre

Inspired in part by August Wilson's 10-play depiction of Pittsburgh life, Dominique Morisseau embarked on a similar ambition reflecting the Motor City in her "Detroit Project."

The trilogy began with "Detroit '67" about a family dynamics in a basement near the historic city uprisings that summer.

A new production of it at Signature Theatre completes the venue's all-streaming Signature Features season before stepping back into live productions this fall. And it's notable to see how far they've come in creating an engrossing dramatic production by mastering the tools of the filmmaker, turning Candis C. Jones into a simultaneous director of film and stage.

I remember vividly the sirens, heat and fear that gripped Detroit that summer. In Morisseau's work, the burning, shooting and rumble of National Guard occurs beyond the confines of the setting: The basement of the family home of a pair of siblings who have newly inherited the home, and have been turning the downstairs into a floating after-hours destination to raise some rent party-like funds.

Chelle (Stori Ayers) is taking charge of planning for the events there with her brother Lank (JaBen Early) helping out. But he's got bigger dreams - using the inheritance to buy a nearby storefront for their own bar with his pal Sly (Greg Alvarez Reid).

There are other complications, though, as when the guys late one night come to the aid of a beaten white woman named Caroline (Emily Kester) found lying in the streets, bringing her down to the basement to help her out. They know two Black men couldn't take her to the hospital without triggering suspicion and the heat, so she agrees to heal up downstairs, trading room and board for serving as waitress at their parties.

Chelle is taken aback by the attraction her brother seems to have toward this mysterious girl. At the same time, Chelle is withholding off any temptation to succumb to any of Sly's tender advances to keep her mind at the business at hand.

Mostly, she finds an outlet through a series of familiar Motown hits, timeless now, but new then that second her emotion, as Smokey Robinson used to say.

Morisseau, who also wrote the book for the Broadway hit "Ain't Too Proud: The Life and Times of the Temptations," is pretty well steeped in this music and uses key tunes - on 45s over the record player, or via then-new 8-track-tapes - as the soundtrack of their lives, and for her play.

Truth to tell, Motown, which billed itself as "The Sound of Young America," appealed to all audiences, so Lank shouldn't be too surprised when Caroline shows she likes it too.

A former poetry slam champ, Morisseau can weave some convincing prose reflecting the lives and dreams of this community, and there is more than one remarkable speeches addressing this, from Chelle, but also from Sly and Link.

There's also a lot of exposition and extended plot boiling in a work that seems longish at more than two hours (at least in its streaming form). And the dialog for friend Bunny (Valeka Jessia) are too broadly used for comic relief.

The calamities outside their door are referred to but never seen, even though, if they're really located at 15th and Clairmount, they're only a few blocks from the epicenter (Nor do they seem overly concerned about getting updates on the situation or evacuating).

I suppose it's because of the limitations of the play, but we don't even see one of the basement parties - only the preparations and aftermath.

As claustrophobic as things start to become in the basement, the inventive variety of shots and angles used, and the detail of the set by Milagros Ponce de León make it an interesting place to be. (Justin Chiet is cinematographer; James Gardiner the editor).

Building it on a stage takes advantage of John D. Alexander's lighting design. Kendric Maxey's sound design makes old record players sound great, but sometimes the volume of the actors' microphones vary. Still, he takes full advantage of the fact that in film, unlike live theater, actors can finally whisper effectively.

The power of the production is found in the cast and D.C. native Stori Ayers is a powerhouse as Chelle. Ayers is a past executive assistant and writing assistant for Morisseau, so knows in her bones the rhythms and nuances of her prose.

Early is just as good in his seething desire to grab a hold of a business opportunity, and his humanity in helping a woman lying on the road. Syl too is more a poet/dreamer whose optimism keeps him getting back. None, Morisseau makes clear, are looters or rioters. They are decent community strivers who would be welcomed into any chamber of commerce, except for skin color.

It may lack the immediacy and punch of a live production, but Signature's "Detroit '67" has a weight and depth that make its capture on film all the more valued.

Running time: Two hours, 19 minutes; no intermission (though there is a pause button).

Photo credit: Stori Ayers and Greg Alvarez Reid in "Detroit '67." Photo by Christopher Mueller.

"Detroit '67" is available to stream today through Sept. 16 in HD on Marquee. Information and tickets available online. Closed captioning and an audio described version is available in English.

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