Sidney Poitier's performance in A Raisin in the Sun is one of those historic, iconic moments of theatre that casts a shadow upon subsequent revivals of the work (for further examples of this phenomenon, see Ethel Merman in Gypsy and Barbra Streisand in Funny Girl - indeed, the Streisand shadow looms so large that, outside of a one-night benefit performance, there has never been another Broadway production of that show). So when a revival of Raisin was announced with Sean Combs in the Poitier role, eyebrows were raised and knives sharpened.
When it opened in late April, most critics praised other aspects of the show, particularly the performances by Phylicia Rashad and Audra McDonald, but were more lukewarm in their response to Mr. Combs. The critical response points to an "art vs. commerce" paradox that fuels the show: the revival was set up as a vehicle for Mr. Combs, and his presence has ensured healthy receipts at the box office, but his performance is the show's weakest link. Surely some other actor (strike that: someone with more training as an actor) could have done better in the role?
The preceding is true for those who think the real performance is on stage. For me, however, the real interest in this production is less what's happening on stage and more what's happening in the audience. And what's happening in the audience is a level of social discomfort and confrontation that Brecht would have appreciated.
A Raisin in the Sun is a museum piece, a dignified snapshot of the African-American experience that was originally staged during the final months of the Eisenhower Administration. Written in a mode of theatrical naturalism, there are parts of its presentation that haven't aged well - but this is true of most drama written in the realist mode. The more that plays of this kind strive to reproduce elements of contemporary culture as a token of their realism, the more they become dated once the elements of this culture are no longer contemporary. And to the extent that naturalist drama takes a stand on social and political controversies of the time, once the era has passed, this political dimension of the play can best be understood historically, not as a phenomenon of contemporary life. But, like I say, this is a general problem: if someone plans to do a revival of Ibsen's Ghosts, one can assume that the audience won't be as mortified by its syphilis topic as its audience in the 19th century was.
Race relations are still problematic 40 years after Raisin's original production, but not for the same set of reasons. Which is why the audience may itself create a more meaningful theatrical experience than the show they've come to see: as a result of the "art vs. commerce" paradox, an audience of young African-Americans who might not usually go to the theatre is being brought into social interaction with a conventional theatre audience, and vice versa. To stereotype the last group for a moment, we can imagine that the conventional audience appreciates the importance of Hansberry's play, applauding it as a piece of social art from the civil rights era, but this implicit support for civil rights (at least as a historical phenomenon) doesn't necessarily make it easier to interact with the African-American sitting next to you.
In an article in the April 26 New York Times, Lola Ogunnaike describes the marketing for the play, which seems intended to ensure a diverse audience mix:
Hot 97, New York's leading hip-hop and R&B station, is not the first place theater marketers typically turn when trying to sell a Broadway production. But Eric Schnall, director of marketing for the revival of "A Raisin in the Sun," which opens this evening at the Royale Theater, does not have a typical audience to attract."There are a whole lot of people that we want to come see 'Raisin in the Sun' that we're not going to get by placing an ad in The New York Times," said Mr. Schnall, who would like to draw theater regulars and a nontraditional audience (read young people and African-Americans). Using urban radio is one of his tactics, and in addition to his promotional campaign on Hot 97 (WQHT-FM, 97.1), he has campaigns on WBLS-FM (107.5) and WKTU-FM (103.5).
"We're interested in getting everyone to the party," he said. It may be the first time "A Raisin in the Sun," Lorraine Hansberry's 1959 play about a black family in crisis during a time of segregation, has been called a party. Nevertheless, in an effort to achieve audience diversity, promotional campaigns have been coordinated with the African-American women's magazine Essence as well as the hip-hop magazines The Source and Vibe. ...
Advertisements for the play are running in African-American newspapers like The Amsterdam News. And fliers were recently distributed at Madison Square Garden after the Ladies First Tour, featuring Beyonce, Alicia Keys and Missy Elliott. Fliers were also handed out at concerts for the hip-hop groups N.E.R.D. and Black Eyed Peas. Mr. Schnall said he often visited message boards for MTV and BET late at night in an effort to generate awareness.
Still, the promotional move most likely to draw the crowd that Mr. Schnall and the play's producer, David Binder, desire is the casting of the hip-hop mogul Sean Combs. He plays Walter Lee Younger, a troubled chauffeur from the South Side of Chicago who longs to start his own business. Mr. Binder, though, insists that the ubiquitous Mr. Combs, known to fans of his music, clothing line, restaurants, marathon cameos, reality series and/or lavish parties as P. Diddy, was not cast because of his box-office potential.
"Sean got the part because he is amazing in the part," Mr. Binder said of his star, whose acting resume consists of bit parts in two Hollywood films and leads in several music videos. "It was based on merit. He auditioned for the part twice."
Whether it was based on merit or not, Miss Info, a Hot 97 radio personality, said casting Mr. Combs was a brilliant business decision.
"Puffy is a brand," she said. "His name is synonymous with luxury, living large, crossing over, and kids are interested in anything he does." Miss Info was, however, worried that her listeners might be misled by Mr. Combs's involvement in the production.
"A lot of listeners have no idea what this play is about," said Ms. Info, who calls "A Raisin in the Sun" one of her favorites. "They just know that P. Diddy is in a play. But it's not about music, there are no Bentleys, it's not gangster, so some people might be disappointed." ...
Dressed in a Yankees baseball cap, baggy jeans and an Izod shirt that hung to his knees, Bernard Raymond, a 28-year-old who looked no older than 16, said he enjoyed the preview performance he attended on Friday evening. He first heard about the show on the radio. He was impressed that Mr. Combs was able to remember all his lines, but Mr. Raymond sheepishly admitted, "There were times when Puffy was putting me to sleep."
I was talking to someone who saw the show and she reports that audience interaction was as giddily uncomfortable as I might have hoped: young women decidedly not wearing (in her words) "church clothes" and yelling "Puffy!" as the curtain falls, stretching the parameters of decorum associated with the Broadway theatrical space. And why not?
For different reasons, people from different backgrounds are coming to see A Raisin in the Sun, enjoying a musuem piece of mid-20th century race relations while negotiating race relations in the new century. Having Mr. Combs play Walter Lee may be the worst casting of the year, and the best.
Posted by gminter at May 8, 2004 09:28 AM