In one’s room Detroit stampede, circa 2008, someone might be stealing Shanita’s (Chanté Adams) salad dressing. Dez (Joshua Boone) flirts with her, but his mesh fabric adds an extra edge when we see that he’s possessive — warning Chekhov! — A gun.
The third character in Dominique Morisseau’s Skeleton Key–premieres at the Samuel J. Friedman Theater tonight, pre-orders for July 22—It’s Reggie (Brandon J. Dirden), the factory foreman, who seems to be addicted to putting up signs telling workers what to do and how to behave. The most conspicuous notice advising against smoking and specifically aimed at one employee, her name highlighted: Faye (Phylicia Rashad), the mother of the corporation, who, in her own estimation, is “” irreplaceable” when it comes to plant operations.
Tony winner Rashad’s performance in this Manhattan Theater Club production is pristine, crisp, deeply felt, caustic and warm. Faye is a bullshit terminator on contact, and Rashad immediately instills her with such a personality — a tough personality, making direct eye contact with anyone she talks to — She created one of the most compelling and distinctive characters on Broadway this winter.
In the Playbill for the play, Morisseau writes emotionally about how her father, Frantz Morisseau, inspired the play. He died in February 2020, and while researching his obituary, Morisseau came across an article he had written for the Federation of Workers. Michigantitled “Workers are the power in this country.”
Morriseau writes: “As soon as I started reading, I felt adrenaline rush through me. “It was a revelation that I was completely this man’s daughter. Although we did not always share the same views, his revolutionary spirit and support for the poor, oppressed and working class have always been with us forever. bundled together”. Morisseau dedicated the play “to my number one supporter in life. My representative. My first line of defense. And he taught me the strength to stand up for the working people.”
Morisseau says she can’t write Skeleton Key without her father, and this might account for the impatience, anger, wit, and empathy that rise in waves of contrast in its two-hour journey, directed by the Sensitive and energetic by Tony-won Ruben Santiago-Hudson.
All the characters are strong and insist on owning the space both inside the break room and far beyond it. Shanita is pregnant, has done a great job, and is determined to build her own future. Dez didn’t just play for himself, and didn’t just put himself reluctantly in Shanita’s way. He wanted to open a repair shop, before he — and the rest of the work was “tidied up” by management.
Phylicia Rashad (Faye) and Brandon J. Dirden (Reggie) in “Skeleton Crew.”
Matthew Murphy
Reggie is not just an annoyingly petty rule-follower. He is tasked with trying to figure out who can steal parts, and also tasked with managing tenders to fire workers, but who will he choose? And Faye is more than just a confident, uncluttered den mom. She is a lesbian, the truth of which was introduced to us through her comment to Dez: “I know how to get a girl in the back of my car faster than you. Tell you as much.” Morisseau’s comedy is also sharp as the play focuses more seriously on loyalty, love, and survival. Faye tells Dez that his car is nothing but an “ol” Betsie… The engine sounds like it will die on you any day. Like a dirty woman with emphysema cough. ”
Everything of life is in the break room. Humorous and serious rhythms run rampant within the group, and between scenes Adesola Osakalumi dances in silhouette, as Nicholas Hussong’s predictions about the city of Detroit fill the stage. The spirit of a city is distilled in both the cast and the staging. Whether it’s taking down Dez or supporting Shanita, or sharing tenderness – but why? – with Reggie, Faye is the leader of this group and her strength is admired by everyone. But we soon realize how vulnerable and embarrassed she is to be seen as weak or needy.
Everyone on stage looks swagger, and everyone is hiding something: Dez’s feelings for Shanita are deeper than he realizes, and the same goes for Shanita, and Reggie must deal with what appears to be Dez breaking workplace rules. Faye, as a worker representative and also Reggie’s best friend, tries to push a fine line, something Dez doesn’t buy. Rashad plays her as a self-contained person who is always mindful of avoiding detection, or anyone’s help or care. More than once she said that she was a survivor, she must be one. “If that’s one thing I know, it’s the way to hell.” Dez doesn’t want to just meekly accept whatever fate happens in the factory shop: “I understand what’s mine.”
““And he said to me, ‘I’ve read all your plays and I never knew where you were going. But you always get somewhere good. Tell them to leave you alone, you know what you’re doing.””
– Dominique Morisseau
Through all these characters, Morisseau, in memory of his father, is conveying countless thoughts and feelings about the labor market, individual responsibility, collective action and loyalty, the public world. work and identity. She wrote that many years ago, when Skeleton Key at a potential creative stage, she calls her father to say that people just don’t seem to understand what’s going on.
“And he said to me, ‘I’ve read all your plays and I never knew where you were going. But you always get somewhere good. Tell them to leave you alone, you know what you’re doing.”
The no-smoking sign for Faye isn’t just a joke, because she’s secretly smoking a cigarette – she’s very sick, and Reggie is determined she won’t make herself sicker. Their relationship is one of the most beautiful in the play for reasons this review won’t spoil, but its progression and culmination is more than just a subtle work of meaning. of the family that – as played by Dirden and Rashad – are among those – rare moments in theater, where the entire auditorium is silent to let the silence fall as two performers cherish their moment. Deep feelings command in their hands. It was a beautiful moment of shared love, defined and expressed in the truest of words.
Skeleton screw It didn’t end there, and strangely Faye wasn’t around to draw conclusions. But mentally, she’s still center stage, and this critic could have spent more hours with her. Morisseau’s father was right: She knew what she was doing and was definitely somewhere good.
