An expansive luxurious pool dominates the Almeida stage, and a dripping wet young man stands in nothing but a speedo. A little more than drunk, he looks around at his current setting, taking in the grandeur of this beautiful home.
Decorated with luxury art, it's the home of collector Andre, a 40-something year old with a desire to possess the world's finest things. For him, that doesn't just consider esteemed paintings; it also means the boyish visitor currently standing in front of him.
Jeremy O. Harris' play is a collision of the Black American south and the white Bel Air, looking at how communities mix, clash, and what parts of your identity you remove when you leave home. Looking at an interracial relationship and the complex power play between two impressive forces, Harris' melodrama is a complex, clever yet sometimes cluttered investigation into newfound privilege.
Featuring strong central performances from 'Daddy' and 'Son', both Claes Bang and Terique Jarrett excel in their roles. The play really demands a lot from the two, but both tackle the part with much ease. Their relationship is intoxicating; equal parts seductive, sleazy and scary, you watch and feel unsettled as they progress through the world.
Danya Taymor's direction draws out compelling performances from the rest of the ensemble. All are strong, and each give something fresh to the story. Jenny Rainsford is a specific standout as the curator Alessia; her exaggerated mannerisms, campy demeanour and cutthroat conversation has the audience giggling throughout. This light relief is needed in what else is quite a heavy work. Sharlene Whyte's Zora, the mother of Franklin, has many funny quips, but even in her hilarity, she expertly conveys the awkwardness she feels watching her son's relationship playout. Moreover, Whyte subtly exudes pain at the fact she has lost her little boy for good.
There are some gorgeous moments in Harris' play, which pack an impactful punch, and force you to pay attention to the action unfolding. However, the second half lacks clarity in the intention, and the clunky narrative composition results in unclear storytelling. Coming in at just under three hours, it feels like we've ran out of plot and are dragging our feet to get to the end. It's frustrating, because the first act takes us on a real journey, it's a perfectly created piece of theatre; however, the final moments leave you feeling underwhelmed.
Daddy at the Almeida Theatre until 30 April.
Photo: Marc Brenner
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