Sunday, March 16, 2008
A+E, Theater
Race relations
A jockey’s bid for freedom drives engrossing ‘Confidence’
CREDIT: Bill DeLoach
Eugene Russell IV and James Donadio in “Pure Confidence”
PURE CONFIDENCE”
Theatrical Outfit
The Balzer Theater at Herren’s
$25
678-528-1500
www.theatricaloutfit.org
Through March 30
By Bert Osborne
It’s deliberately disturbing how casually the “n” word rolls off the tongues of the characters in Carlyle Brown’s “Pure Confidence.” Set immediately before and after the Civil War, the play’s protagonist is an ingenious slave named Simon Cato, who wagers to use his talents as a jockey to win his freedom. Along the way, he meets and marries Caroline, a demure housemaid—but the story is just as much about their respective white “masters,” the wealthy Colonel Wiley Johnson and his wife Mattie. Except for the fact that they own slaves, the Johnsons appear to be kind and caring people, and whenever they refer to Simon or Caroline by the “n” word, it’s almost like a genuine term of endearment, as inconceivable as that sounds in this day and age.
To be sure, the word takes on a more derogatory, overtly racist significance coming from other characters. Still, the drama’s relatively relaxed portrayal of the Johnsons is indicative of an evenhandedness that keeps “Pure Confidence” on course, without ever overstating the obvious or using a sledgehammer to drive home its points (which is often a problem with such “message” plays). As Brown represents them here, all blacks may be basically good, but not all whites are wholly evil for “living in the real world, right or wrong,” as Mrs. Johnson eventually puts it.
At the same time, though, Theatrical Outfit’s otherwise laudable staging occasionally feels too laid back. (A quibble about Sydney Roberts’ costumes: If she’s so rich, can’t Mattie afford a change of clothes in the first act?) With the current “Blue Door” and the recent “Gee’s Bend” also to his credit, Gary Yates is one of the season’s busiest and most notable directors. An experienced actor himself, he tends to elicit strong work from his casts—so it could be a flaw in the writing that neither James Donadio’s Colonel nor Eugene Russell IV’s Simon seem to be conflicted so much as compatible. Donadio, for instance, makes a likable impression in a role that might have been more dimensional had it played up the Colonel’s greedy exploitation of Simon.
For his part, Russell (one of the engaging co-stars of last year’s “Cuttin’ Up”) captures Simon’s “sassy” and “arrogant” spirit with considerable charm and skill. It’s hardly surprising to hear the Colonel plead with him at one point, “Try to behave like a slave.” Indeed, that the character is a slave doesn’t fully register in Russell’s performance, which initially lacks a sufficient anger and bitterness. Nobody in the audience really needs Simon to tell them how horrible slavery was, but we never truly sense its personal toll and oppressive reign over his own life, either.
That isn’t to deny the emotional power of Russell’s best scene, astride a barnyard barrel in an imaginary race between thoroughbreds called Slavery and Freedom. And it isn’t to diminish the heartbreaking developments of the play’s post-war second act, or its ultimately uplifting resolution. Having been knocked off his high horse, literally as well as figuratively, Simon’s working as a lowly bellhop when he chances to see the Colonel again. While he’s a broken man physically, perhaps, Simon’s indomitable drive and determination survive intact.
As a black playwright, Brown’s sympathetic depiction of his main white characters is probably no more commendable than, as a man, his insightful attention to the two women. Under Yates’ guidance, the lovely Jade Lambert-Smith brings an unassuming sweetness and quiet nobility to Caroline—and, in rare and refreshing down-to-earth form, the ordinarily imposing Marianne Fraulo is a veritable “pistol” as the forward-thinking Mattie. In the end, Simon and the Colonel can finally and proudly shake hands in public, something they could never do before, but whether as written or as performed, it’s mostly a fleeting formality. The lingering heart and soul of the piece rests with their wives, whose own belated reconciliation speaks volumes. SP