Playwright: Tracy Scott Wilson
At: Goodman Theatre, 170 N. Dearborn St.
Phone: ( 312 ) 443-3800; $20-$60
Runs through: April 10
'Act like you've been somewhere!' Jamie Foxx's grandmother exhorted him, advice invaluable to anyone seeking to transcend the restrictions of their upbringing. For decades, non-Caucasian characters in American plays tended to operate solely within their own subculture, for good or bad. But with Thomas Gibbon's Permanent Collection, recently produced at Northlight, and Tracy Scott Wilson's The Story, now playing at the Goodman, we are meeting African-Americans who HAVE been somewhere—Citizens Of Color savvy enough to manipulate others' expectations to their own advantage. The American Dream is BASED in self-reinvention, after all.
So there is nothing fundamentally wrong in an ambitious cub reporter seeking promotion from the ghetto of her prestigious newspaper's 'Black Issues' section. No, our heroine's tragic flaw is IMPATIENCE. But the story she hopes will facilitate her rise in status is based on events as elusive as they are provocative. And lies—or even truths, if unverifiable—have a way of feeding on themselves, especially when the con artist refuses to admit the possibility of being conned, herself. Furthermore, lest we shrug at these Mamet-style shenanigans, our playwright makes clear what happens to OUR society when the stakes get too high for the perpetrators to back out.
The Story's narrative frequently split-screens between locales, its dialogue teeming with verbal flourishes—lightning asides, simultaneous inspirations—making for dazzling spoken-word ballet. Fortunately, the cast assembled by director Chuck Smith hasn't a leadfoot in its line-up. Kati Brazda and Josh Bywater as philanthropists whose misfortune precipitates the action, Jacqueline Williams and Patrick Sims as journalists struggling to preserve their professional progress, Kevin McKillip as an establishment consort no crueler than he must be, Monét Butler as a slum genius ALMOST too good to be true, a trio of protean player who portray personalities ranging from neighborhood crusaders to chronic jailbirds—never for an instant do any of them succumb to facile caricature. In the middle of it all is Lizzy Cooper Davis' slick social-climber, likewise rendered with such unexaggerated accuracy that we understand right away the success of her ruse.
Beyond its real-life counterparts—Janet Cooke, Jayson Blair, etc.—The Story contains a lesson as timeless and universal as its classic prototypes. Look for it.
