You may have a hard time holding your breath in the first act of Branden Jenkins' sophomore Broadway outing “purpose” and the first act of “purpose” that opened at Helen Hayes Theatre. Under Yucks there is a grave deeply imagined grave, which spools like a great sitcom.
Then, like a sitcom, jump the shark.
Ah, well, mixed emotions go with the territory. When “purpose” is primarily the merciless separation of hypocrisy in important religiously political black American families, the Jesse Jackson dynasty comes to mind – it is also a dissatisfied love letter to them in the spread of their divine, the death of the backroom, and the glory of self-promotion. The problem is that in a constant switchback of perspective, the play directed by Phylicia Rashad becomes too busy and attenuates to maintain a line of confidence.
The same can be said about his family, Jasper. Like the Chicago-based Jacksons, the play began at the city's Steppenwolf Theatre Company – they, too, are led by an eloquent pastor who, in his youth, worked closely with the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. Jacobs Jenkins cannot help to note that the value of civil rights citing the Bible of that generation is a sin enough to burden his father's host.
Certainly, Solomon Jasper (Harry Reenix), who has retreated from the frontlines as he approaches 80, has reserved most of his thunder for his family. His horrible wife, Claudin, is the honey patriarch with a law degree, and is difficult enough to shape it into his own purposes if necessary. But their unfortunate sons are upon the brunt of Solomon's Bible disapproval.
The older son, named after his father, is more clearly a whimsical. Growing up to support Solomon's political heritage, Junior (Glenn Davis), instead, as a state senator, hurts it when he was convicted of embezzling campaign funds. He spent time with “betting on cashmere drawers and lace doves,” according to his raging wife Morgan.
Morgan (Alana Arenas) has other reasons why it is advertised. She was forced to sign a false tax return from her family and was denied. She is in her middle as her husband is out of prison (they have two children, so they were sentenced to serve in a row). The divorce she seeks is also being locked down.
Necessary measures include the mandatory Homecoming Celebration Dinner, in honor of the Junior release. Discomfort includes not only his recent diagnosis of bipolar disorder, but also the revival of other released digs Nazareth.
With a little affection, Claudine calls Naz (John Michael Hill) her “strange son.” He left Divinity School – he intended to manage the spiritual parts of his father's portfolio – he became a nature photographer and stayed at home more than outside.
Socially, that's the opposite: Naz could be autistic, and he says he is asexual. Both of these identities, which the family is actively denies, have made their arrival on the homecoming with his livewire friend Aziza (Karayoung), which makes neither character seem more reliable.
Did Aziza say he might be pregnant with his child?
This is not a taste of the play setup. One of the falsehoods is that it requires so many backstory to get started. Perhaps half of Naz's dialogue is narration spoken directly to the audience, sucking up the drama unnecessarily from the action. If Jacobs Jenkins' wit and hill charm reduces the problem somewhat, Rashad's staging emphasizes that.
The actor certainly restores it, and in any case, it's delight to see Jacobs Jenkins assemble his kindling stick with the stick before it burns. This ultimately happens around the dinner table – a catnip location for playwrights (it's because it's long proximity to everyone), but a perennial headache for the director. Besides the old trick of emptying two chairs and scooping the other chairs unnaturally to the sides, how do you make everyone visible?
Rashad and set designer Todd Rosenthal hasn't solved that problem, and the sound designs by Rob Milburn and Michael Bodeen don't make up for hearing what we often can't see. Among the production design elements, only the Dede Ayite costumes are loud and clear in their stories.
Not relevant; even just 50% of this rich man's material is enough for a big laugh. How Claudine gets what she wants by legislating reality – watch her “persuade” her to stay for dinner by forcing her coat and bags to remove – her guilt trip is just a taste of manipulation, a mere appetizer. For dessert: Private contract.
No other people are innocent bystanders either. Junior, who Naz calls “The King of Pivots,” comes up with plans to revamp his reputation by monetizing his family letters. Solomon blows him away like a god. And then, Morgan, who has seen almost silently, finally erupts, calling the Jaspers “Hucksters,” and, worse, a faceless slap awaits her. By that point, even Dr. King, whose huge portrait centers around the set, appears to be grinning at his shrine.
This family is off the rail as they realize that Aziza is too late to escape. It's exciting, but the storyline for Act 1 remains in the air, but it's less when it lands on the mountains in Act 2. By then, the dial set on bright comedy is too expensive for serious retaliation. Solomon behaves in particular so badly that the playwright's attempts to rehabilitate him are not successful.
Worse, everyone's complaints are temporarily forgotten, at least with the intentional end-up reactants. Unlike the abolished Lafayette family of Jacobs Jenkins' “appropriate” who ran in the same theater last year, Jasper licked his wounds and quietly returned to life.
Nevertheless, it is a privilege to be given an audience with them. The world is fully questioning the secret life of playwright leaders, at least since the Greeks sought the answers to the drama. “Purpose” not only confirms the worst doubt, but also makes it contextual.
However, I left the play wondering if it was Jacobs Jenkins really interested. His most original and moving character here is Naz, who abandoned his legacy of leadership, who thinks that a self-definition seeks father (the playwright became a parent in 2021), and wanders the lakes of Ontario for a photo sublime. Perhaps the “purpose” in the title of the play is not the kind that has dreams or bends towards justice, but the kind that must be found for himself in the shadow of a great man his son has compromised.
the purpose
Helen Hayes Theatre in Manhattan until July 6th. 2st.com. Running time: 2 hours and 50 minutes.
