Playwrights: Ossie Davis, Gary Geld, Peter Udell, Philip Rose
At: Goodman Theatre
Phone: ( 312 ) 443-3800; $20-$75
Runs through: Oct, 30
Under Sheldon Epps' buoyant direction, Purlie frequently sparkles with big laughs and an engaging, high-kicking cast. But they can't eliminate the sticky wickets of story and construction that have hobbled previous revivals.
Adapted in 1970 from Ossie Davis' 1961 social comedy Purlie Victorious, the musical tracks a Negro preacher in rural Georgia as he attempts to restore an old church, and bring mid-20th Century emancipation to old Cap'n Cotchipee's cotton plantation. The civil-rights movement still was gathering force, Jim Crow laws remained in place, and plantation employees often were manipulated into perpetual debt by the plantation owner, like white coal miners owing the company store.
Davis skillfully wrapped his politics in raucous comedy, much of it derived from burlesque and vaudeville. The broad characters were such exaggerated stereotypes they quickly became ridiculous. It was minstrelsy turned upside down. The essential style was kept intact when the play was musicalized.
Jacques C. Smith dazzles in the title role, trim and lithe, athletically graceful, with a big voice and first-rate comedic skills. Playing opposite him, Paulette Ivory is a perky, spirited package of gamine energy and wide-eyed surprise. The third lead is Chicago favorite E. Faye Butler as Purlie's sister-in-law. No one sings bigger than Butler or steals her comedy scenes. She takes stage in Act I production number, 'Down Home', and again in Act II with 'He Can Do It'.
These three are surrounded by a half-dozen gifted artists in key supporting roles, each with a moment in the musical spotlight. Under musical director Ronald ( Rahn ) Coleman and his seven-piece band, the troupe has a sure grasp of R&B, gospel and Broadway strut styles in the pastiche score.
As tuneful and toe-tapping as it is, however, about half the score is superficial, with songs shoe-horned into the story's flow. Clearly, Davis resisted paring down the play to make a tightly structured musical, and didn't trust songs to carry story information.
Still, Purlie entices as long as the comedy keeps coming. But when the jokes stop in the Act II climactic scenes, a pall falls across the audience. The denouement of Purlie is a let-down, and not just in the comedic sense. Purlie and his kin get their church back, but not as a result of their own actions, although they've spent the show trying. Instead, Boss Cotchipee's liberal son betrays his father and signs the church over to Purlie. The Black community achieves its goal only through the charity of the Good White Man. Unacceptable in 2005, it was a swift and unimaginative conclusion even in 1961.
The message of Purlie—to seize and guard both our spiritual and constitutional rights—remains appropriate. But the show's fervor turns tepid when it doesn't generate its own reward.