12th Play - Trouble in Mind by Alice Childress

I needed another handheld play for the 12th day (Friday night bath time!) and pulled this book of Alice Childress plays off my shelf. I’ve already read her Wedding Band, but not this one. Wow. Another wow play, although a challenging and tough piece. I’m so sorry I didn’t see the fabulous Shariba Rivers in the Timeline version of it.

Summary: “A talented and experienced Black actress has been cast in Chaos in Belleville, an anti-lynching play set to open on Broadway. She's paid her dues throughout the years, playing stereotypical supporting roles in second-rate shows, and is ready for her star turn. Chaos in Belleville, written by a white playwright, might not be quite as enlightened a piece as she's been hoping for — but that doesn't mean it won't sell out. And selling out is the question at the heart of Alice Childress's comedy-drama. A cast of multigenerational Black actors rehearse under the purview of a white director and stage manager, and as the rehearsal process unfolds, theatre conventions and racial politics collide, resulting in a surprisingly funny yet deeply piercing look at the entertainment industry.” From Concord Theatricals.

Laura’s thoughts in brief: Okay, first of all, THIS PLAY. It feels like it was written as an illustration of We See You White American Theatre after that letter came out in 2020. However, this play was written in 1955, and Childress was on track to be the first black female playwright to have a show on Broadway (as you may know, that honor eventually went to Lorraine Hansberry for A Raisin in the Sun). The reason Childress did not acheive that honor? In order to get her play produced on Broadway, they wanted to “tone it down” and “make it more comfortable for white audiences” (https://www.newyorktheatreguide.com/reviews/trouble-in-mind-broadway-review). And Childress said no. The show didn’t receive its Broadway debut until in 2021, after the playwright’s death. Alice Childress achieved a degree of fame in her lifetime, but not like Lorraine Hansberry was. I know I didn’t have to read any Alice Childress plays in high school. Or in graduate school, either. I didn’t know about her until the last five or so years as I have been actively trying to read plays by more BIPOC playwrights. So, there’s all that, which, I think, is quite a lot. The show centers on Wiletta, an experienced actress who you get a feeling at the top of the play hasn’t worked a lot recently, and she’s excited to be cast, despite it not being a great script. John, a young Black actor in his first Broadway show, is nervous, and Wiletta urges him to basically do whatever the director needs. When he says he’s taken classes, she tells him, “Don’t let the man know that. They don’t like us to go to school. … They want us to be naturals … you know, just born with the gift. Course they want you to be experienced too.” She goes on to tell him “You have to cater to these fools … Laugh! Laugh at everything they say, makes ‘em feel superior. … Sometimes they laugh, you’re supposed to look serious, other times they serious, you supposed to laugh.” When John tells her this behavior seems a bit “Uncle Tommish,” she tells him “It is Tommish … but they do it more than we do. They call it bein’ a ‘yes man.’ You either do it and stay or don’t do it and get out.” You can just see the tightrope this actress has been walking her entire career as a Black actor in this time period (How much better is it today? WSYWAT says not much …). As an actor myself, this idea of being a “yes man” is resonant (if sexist), and that’s a big part of the reason the Intimacy field has developed. People have been asked to do things outside their boundaries for decades, but said “yes” to further their careers. Particularly women (#MeToo), but not just women. So, as a white female in this industry, I feel Wiletta’s pain to a certain extent, but also recognize that for Black performers, it has been so much worse. The lovely, young white actress Judy comes in, and she’s trying so hard to let the Black cast know that she’s “on their side.” It’s very cringe-y, particularly as I feel like out of my own white guilt, I have definitely done that in the past. Childress allows you to feel a tiny bit sorry for Judy (at least she’s trying, right?), until, when faced with the idea that the show might be canceled, she bemoans that she may have to go back home to Bridgeport, with not a clue of how privileged that statement is. “Oh how I wish I had a Bridgeport,” replies Millie, one of the Black actresses. The whole play is filled with the microagressions that these Black actors have to endure, and then just the outright racism of this “well-intentioned” play written by a white man and directed by a white man, making most of the Black characters into stereotypes. Manners, the director, at the beginning of the rehearsal period throws down some paper, asks Judy to go downstage, then comments on the “trashy stage.” When Judy starts to pick up the paper, he orders her to hold, then directs Wiletta to pick it up instead. In shock, Wiletta accidentally responds honestly, “Well, hell! I ain’t the damn janitor! I … well, I …shucks … I … damn.” “Cut!” replies Manners. “What you have just seen is … is … is fine acting.” The acting teacher in me wants to both curl up in a ball and throw things at this point. This kind of “shock” technique was associated with “Method” acting, but used by many teachers and pedagogies, and is only in the last few years being called into question. (Again, thanks to WSYWAT, Black Lives Matter and people working to bring Consent-Based practices into classrooms, MOST acting teachers now have learned that we do not need actors to have to relive their personal or historical traumas in order to become good.) There are so many other powerful moments in this play, and the evolution of the confident (on the surface) Wiletta, to confused and unnerved as Manners makes her feel like she doesn’t know what she’s doing (raise your hands if you’ve been there, actors! Ack), to firmer and more decisive as she stands up to him to tell him that the script doesn’t make sense and her character would not do that. Now, to be honest, when students tell me the character wouldn’t do that, I tell them it’s their job to figure out why and how that character WOULD do that. But in this racially charged play, with the Black cast having to act out stereotypes to fulfill the white playwright’s need to assuage his guilt, or be a hero, I (and the playwright) believe that Wiletta is right to stand up. And, to be fair, I’ve fought battles as an actor in new plays, over things that seemed to minimize the play and the character. This has caused me to be labeled a “difficult” actor by some people. But Wiletta is fighting a MUCH bigger fight than I ever have. I don’t mean to compare, I’m just acknowledging that that it is a risk to do. Wiletta’s risk, especially in 1957 when the play is set, is SO MUCH GREATER. Particularly as we see that most of the Black cast really need the job, as they have no “Bridgeport” to fall back on. Watching Wiletta fight for what is right, but understanding the risk she potentially places others in the cast in, is … hard. And there is no easy ending. Which is, I suppose, quite accurate. Why is this play still relevant almost 70 years after it was written? I wish it wasn’t. But because it is, EVERY WHITE PERSON NEEDS TO SEE THIS PLAY, OR AT LEAST READ IT. Do it if you haven’t. Seriously.

Content Disclosures (if you read this play): racism: microagressions and full-on agressions against Black people including stereotypes, discussion of lynching, actual description of a lynching, sexism

READ MORE! Here’s what others had to say about productions:

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/11/18/theater/trouble-in-mind-review.html

https://www.newyorktheatreguide.com/reviews/trouble-in-mind-broadway-review

https://www.theguardian.com/stage/2021/dec/10/trouble-in-mind-review-national-theatre

https://chicago.suntimes.com/2022/11/14/23456739/trouble-in-mind-review-timeline-theatre-chicago-alice-childress-shariba-rivers

https://chicagoreader.com/arts-culture/theater/theater-review/she-sees-you-white-american-theater/