Too Much Theater: "Grandeur" at Magic Theatre

I have mentioned before that Carl Lumbly is one of my favorite Bay Area actors. I first noticed his work on television back in the 80s or 90s, and I was quite thrilled when he started appearing more frequently on local stages a few years ago. Now having seen him a couple of times at SF Playhouse, plus at ACT and a reading to benefit TheatreFIRST, I really look forward to every opportunity to see his work. When friends recommended that we catch the performance of Grandeur at the Magic Theatre, I hadn't realized that Lumbly was featured in it. Buying tickets only a few days before the show, we ended up with separate single tickets in the front row, and I have to say, that was a tremendous bonus.

The show only runs through this coming weekend, but before I get to all the other comments, just let me say: Go see this show, if only to watch Carl Lumbly.

The play is a world premiere of a work by Han Ong, a writer whose work I did not know before, though he has worked at the Magic previously, some 25 years ago.

The Play

Grandeur is set in 2010, in the dark, cave-like apartment of Gil Scott-Heron in New York City. Scott-Heron has just released his first album in 16 years, causing quite a stir, and he is suddenly the subject of much interest in the musical press, being known as the "godfather of hip-hop" in some circles. He is also addicted to crack cocaine. A public fixture in both music and letters at one time, he is now reclusive and withdrawn into his own little world. But with the release of an album, he is suddenly recapturing attention, wanted or not.

The play centers on the visit of a young writer, a fan of Scott-Heron, who wants to interview him for a piece to be submitted to the New York Review of Books. The writer, Steve Barron, finds the whole process quite daunting, and struggles a bit getting started with the curmudgeonly Scott-Heron. But he persists, getting past the gatekeeper, "Miss Julie," who may or may not be Scott-Heron's niece. Over the course of an afternoon, Barron manages to establish some rapport with his subject, and the two converse on a variety of topics that might eventually produce an article or an interview or a blog posting.

Ultimately what we learn is that the real interviews of this period were all pretty much of a piece, and Ong speculates in this play how an interview might have played out with a different sort of interviewer and a different sort of interview. The point is made clearly that all the stock interviews were done by pretty much interchangeable, white reporters. One of the things that intrigues Scott-Heron here is that Barron is also a person of color, though he pokes some fun at Barron's choices of shoes and clothes.

Even when not the focus of the dialogue, the topics of race, class, generational differences, and privilege are never far from the surface.

The Production

The set effectively captures the image of a man withdrawn from normal life, living isolated, largely in the dark, with his memories, his words, and his crack pipe. As Gil Scott-Heron, Carl Lumbly is completely captivating and convincing. He manages to portray a wizened, road-weary, and thoughtful wordsmith who has largely chosen not to share his work with others. From my vantage point at the end of the front row, I was literally the closest person to Lumbly for much of the evening, and the opportunity to watch the nuanced details of his performance was priceless. For the entire duration of the show, even when he was not in the focus of the action, he was never still, never relaxed or taking it easy: he was always working his character.

Rafael Jordan portrays Barron, the in-over-his-head writer who desperately wants to get this interview, but at some level also wants something else, something personal. Miss Julie (Safiya Fredericks) has her own opinions of what is going on here, expressing the belief that Barron's arrival portends ill for Scott-Heron.

As the play runs, we learn much more about Barron, though he remains somewhat enigmatic, and his motivations are ultimately unsure to us. Scott-Heron, on the other hand, is largely what we know him to be at the outset, talented and aging, reluctant to provide anything but stock answers, deflecting questions he doesn't really want to ask.

The Reaction

This is a really good piece of work. The writing feels very smooth, with the dialogue flowing quite naturally among the characters. Miss Julie, though she has the least stage time, is a truly interesting character, filling various roles as "niece," caretaker, roommate, and protector, stepping in as Scott-Heron's alter ego when necessary. The dance between their characters is obviously ongoing, though we have no idea when it started, where it came from, and so on. Then Barron drops in as kind of a fish-out-of-water, and for a while no one is quite sure what to make of anyone else.

So it's utterly absorbing. Lumbly dominates, both as the central figure in the drama, but also as the most convincing actor throughout. During one exchange about his addition, I could swear he was about to tear a chunk out of the arm of the upholstered chair he was sitting in. His tension was visible and palpable, but not allowed to vent through action or words. And without going into too much detail, I'll just say that he returns to the set before the intermission ends, and is already fully in character throughout, though you might not expect it in context. From beginning to end, Lumbly gives one of the finest performances I've seen on a Bay Area stage, ever.

The play is quite clever and effective in focusing on one imagined day, alluding to real events and people in Scott-Heron's life without having to portray them. He gets to react to things related through interview questions or off-handed comments by Miss Julie, and we can read about them in the program or online. By staying within itself and not trying to incorporate things outside, the play feels much more true and powerful.

The Aftermath

As is becoming more common these days, the Magic hosted a conversation after the performance. Most of the audience chose not to stay, and in retrospect, they were wise. When done well, these talk-back sessions can be enlightening. This was not one of those.

The Magic staffer who ran the session spoke very softly, even when multiple audience members asked her to speak up. She started with a couple of pretty generic questions ("What stuck with you about the play?") without much reaction or followup. When the actors came back out, they sat off on the side, behind a post from the remaining audience, so it was essentially impossible to see or hear them or address them directly.

All in all, quite frustrating, because a well-prepared, well directed talk-back can be enlightening for both the company and the audience. I got the feeling that both sides here felt it was just a waste of time. Too bad.

And also too bad because it rather detracted from what was otherwise an extremely effective and powerful play, with a dynamic and discussion-worthy ending. Had they chosen to take off from there, it might have been a more effective part of the evening and made the overall production more effective, not less.