Recalling a prominent theatrical racial reckoning 100 years ago.
The racial reckoning coursing through American theaters and arts companies as a result of last summer's social justice uprisings isn't a new thing.
It was at the center of a cultural battle 100 years ago, in fact, when Eugene O'Neill defied common theatrical practice at the time and cast an African-American actor as lead in his latest play, rather than using a white actor in blackface.
Hiring the leading African-American actor of the day, Charles S. Gilpin, to star in the title role of "Emperor Jones" on Broadway so soon after the Red Summer uprisings and riots of 1919 wasn't the end of the story, though.
Gilpin bristled at some of O'Neill's dialogue meant to reflect the black dialect: "dem" and "dose" and especially the n-word, which he had to say dozens of times. Gilpin tried to insert substitute words for that incendiary slur, but O'Neill wouldn't abide his text being altered on stage. Despite awards and acclaim, Gilpin was fired for his reluctance to say the word, starting a decline for the actor into depression, drinking and death as a pauper at 51.
"The Emperor Jones," O'Neill's first big hit, went onto years of touring with an acclaimed new lead, Paul Robeson. And the legacy of Gilpin faded.
Playwright Adrienne Earle Pender found this all a rich vein to mine in the 21st century and produced "N," named after the now forbidden word in question. The Keegan Theatre, as part of its 25th anniversary season, is giving it is regional debut in a crisp production that finds some nuances in the story of triumph and tragedy.
In it, both O'Neill and Gilpin are seen as artists whose talent brings them to the top of their professions, but also humans whose own egos refuse to allow any compromise to their art. As delighted as Gilpin is to become the first Black man to star in a leading role on the Great White Way - earning a princely $50 a week and allowing him to quit his job as a Macy's elevator man - the stellar reviews, awards from the Drama Desk and NAACP, and the White House where he met President Warren G. Harding - begin to go to his head.
Gilpin is repeatedly described in the play as stubborn, arrogant and hot-tempered - adjectives that could apply to any difficult actor. But he also was determined to uplift his race, and certainly not be a part of its denigration on stage. His lived experience - one in which people did not use the n-word amongst themselves - could help improve and inform O'Neill's script. And if he was the artist that O'Neill professed Gilpin was, surely the two men could discuss the issue civilly as equals.
That notion might have been too much for O'Neill, whose own sense of self expanded because of the success of the play, his first hit. Hadn't he done enough by bringing a Black narrative to the stage?
Gilpin was not going to win, in part because Robeson may have been too much of a talent to fill his absence. Robeson would go on to play Brutus Jones in London and in the 1933 film.
But there was more than race at work, as well. "N" brings out the notion that an actor's "role of a lifetime" may also be a life sentence, that must be repeated over and over to audiences who wouldn't pay to see you as anything else. Something similar happened to O'Neill's actor father playing "The Count of Monte Cristo" and that knowledge binds the two men. Gilpin continued to perform readings of "The Emperor Jones" on smaller stages and on radio, because people didn't want anything else.
"N" is a solid and timely production to bring live audiences back to a theater that like many others kept afloat during the pandemic by putting productions online. It's especially good to see lush, detailed set designs like Matthew J. Keenan's, in real life. He divided the stage into Gilpin's modest home, O'Neill's spotless office, and in-between, the West Indian jungle setting of "The Emperor Jones."
Under Nadia Guevara's direction, space between them is used a bit oddly as they kill time between scenes, and characters enter one room through the jungle set or retreat into it.
It's necessary to kill time because it takes a moment for Gilpin especially to change suits (designed by Paris Francesca) or into his stage costumes.
As Gilpin, Kevin E. Thorne II is commanding and rangy, as striking a figure as the actor he portrayed (who still can be seen in dozens of silent films). Still, there were a few stumbles in an opening weekend performance, the most egregious of which was when he appeared to use the n-word in question in a stage speech when his character was supposed to have put in a euphemistic "colored" or "Negro" instead. It's only the crux of the entire conflict, but the production went on as if he had inserted his softer word after all (and though I eventually tired of streamed productions, I wish I had this matinee on a laptop so I could easily rewind and see for sure if that's what happened).
At any rate, the talky part is a lot to take on, and there was certainly a lot more emotion coming from Thorne than opposite him, with Jared H. Graham portraying O'Neill in mustache, stiff collar and vest as if he was a banker and not a playwright. Though he kept distractingly pouring from liquor bottles, he never seemed to loosen up.
The best part of the production turns out to be Lolita Marie, who plays Gilpin's supportive wife Florence with compassion - a level head who encourages and celebrates her husband's achievements and fiercely defends him after he's been discarded. Iit is her wisdom that stays with us at the play's end - in a world where, 100 years later, the same arguments somehow still rage and the discussions fit this century's theatrical reckonings.
Running Time: 75 minutes, no intermission.
Photo credit: Kevin E. Thorne II in "N" at Keegan Theatre. Cameron Whitman Photography
"N" continues at the Keegan Theatre, 1742 Church St., Washington DC, through Nov. 20, 2021. Tickets are available at 202-265-3767 or online. Proof of vaccination or negative COVID-19 test within 48 hours of performance time required.
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