BACK STAGE WEST
January 23, 2003
at Casa 0101
What a fatal
mistake Nat Turner's first owner made when he gave the precocious young slave a
copy of the Bible and encouraged him to read it. He might as well as have given
Turner a loaded gun. If later generations of African-Americans were inspired by
Christian values of mercy and non-violence, Turner, who in 1831 led a brutal
slave rebellion, was clearly more fired up by the prophetic severity of the
Bible's stories of exile and deliverance, which involve no small amount of
pestilence, first-born-child-killing, and what we'd call ethnic cleansing. If
Martin Luther King Jr. was the New Testament, Nat Turner was the Old.
There's a reason
both testaments are still taught, of course--and equally good reason to tell
Turner's unsettling story alongside the ubiquitous memorials to King's
redemptive example. In Randolph Edmonds' modest play Nat Turner, serviceably directed here by Emmanuel
Deleage, we get the gist. In a brief preface based on his famous Confessions (a section apparently added by Deleage),
a jailed Turner (Ted Hayes) recites the names of the rebellion's 55 victims,
many of them children. The first act comprises the fireside barbecue at which
Turner marshals his forces to begin the killing; the brief second act has
Turner returning to the site to find that the revolt is unraveling in arrest,
death, and shame--and beginning to realize that perhaps his inspiration for the
massacre wasn't so divine, after all.
The Turner story
is so rich and resonant because, with its harsh, literally black-and-white moral
contrasts, it cuts right to the heart of the revolutionary dilemma: Is there a
just way to end injustice? Is one man's terrorist another man's freedom
fighter? In the rousing first act, Edmonds supplies some of the political
consciousness so noticeably missing from Turner's confessions--which capture
his cold-blooded fury and utter conviction but none of his rationale, if he had
one--but it doesn't shy away from portraying the warped, cult-like fervor that
no doubt rallied his comrades in arms, or the tragic pathos of this ragtag
"army," following their commander-in-chief on a suicide mission.
Hayes'
over-the-top performance helps sell these points--both the righteous and the
pathetic sides of Turner. Entering in a hooded white robe that makes him look a
little like Rick James, Hayes--the wiry, corn-rowed homeless activist who built
Dome Village and famously clashed with demonstrators outside the Democratic
Convention in 2000--is in his element making impassioned, disarmingly
entertaining messianic speeches about the Struggle. The actors around Turner
don't have much to do--they either cheer him on or disagree just enough to
allow him to make another point--but among a competent cast, Howard Bee and Ian
Loren stand out for bringing a lived-in authenticity to their roles, and Sufe
Bradshaw has a fiery flash of a scene in the second act.
Deleage's scene
transitions are clunky, but his forest set is evocatively dressed (by Jeff
Peninger; the art director is Bryony Foster). Truth to tell, the show is an
uneven, slightly faltering effort overall. But it has a boldness and
earnestness that somehow bode well for Josefina Lopez's new Casa 0101; this
company's palpable sense of social mission seems directed at raising tough
questions (a lively post-show Q&A ran nearly as long as the show) rather
than giving us clever, winking agitprop for the already converted.
"Nat Turner," presented by Justiceville/Homeless
USA & Haber Hayes Productions and Courage Productions at Casa 0101
Theater/Art Space, 2009 E. 1st St., Boyle Heights. Fri.-Sat. 8 p.m., Sun. 7
p.m. Jan. 17-26. $5-10. (323) 263-7684.