FENCES
Arkansas Repertory Theatre
Feb.  2007

I can admit it: I cried. Three times. That I counted.

But "Fences" is not simply a sad play. There's nothing maudlin about it. But it is
a serious one. It's an incredible history lesson, close reading of
familial relationships, almost painfully thorough examination of failure,
and a good and great dose of hope.


"Fences," August Wilson's Pulitzer and Tony Award-winning play and part of his 10-part
series on African-American life and a work focusing on 1950s urban life, is
fantastically performed by the Arkansas Repertory Theatre with a talented cast and amazing set, which both  
serve to highlight the gorgeous script.


Troy Maxson (Gerard Catus), a former Negro Baseball League star, ex-con, trash
man and profoundly unhappy family man, owns the first act. He is the first person to
literally come booming onto the stage, and he fascinates with his enormous frame
and dominating voice that fluctuates from teller of tall tales to angry, lost
soul.


Troy lives with his second wife, Rose (Judyann Elder), and their
desperate-to-be-loved son, Cory (Yaegel Welch). His brother Gabriel (Lawrence Hamilton),
who was wounded and left mentally impaired during World War II, has moved out
of their home, but makes regular visits and, along with Troy's best friend,
Bono (Lawrence Evans), injects a dose of tenderness and truth at moments when no
one else seems able to.

Troy spends the first act raging about the discrimination of his job, telling jokes and dark stories of facing down death and the devil himself. The conflict is within Troy, and the other characters can at
times seem only to serve the purpose of illustrating that conflict, particularly
Troy's son from his first marriage, Lyons (Wendell B. Franklin), a musician who,
like Cory, is constantly humiliated and criticized by his father. And, they build that fence throughout the act.


The second act belongs to Rose. Troy must tell her what his inner demons have
finally wrought, and the look of pure devastation on her face, plus the
response she gives him, is so true and perfect they reveal everything about
Rose and Troy, as well as marriage and betrayal in a matter of moments. The audience
actually cheered for her, a testament to Judyann Elder's finely honed and
careful talent, as well as her restraint and timing as an actress.


However, there are other complications beyond these that might destroy this marriage. Cory talks of a recruiter coming to the school. Troy has tried to warn Cory about the dangers of becoming involved with sports, despite the fact this opportunity will allow Cory a college education, and he forbids
him to play. Their dispute comes to a heartbreaking end, although Cory
eventually rises above it.


There's not a weak spot in the cast. Especially worth noting are Evans, who,
as Bono, is a voice of reason that Troy simply refuses to hear, as well as our
local celebrity, Hamilton. To write a mentally impaired character is a
difficult feat. I suspect playing one, giving him dignity, avoiding camp,
letting meaning shine through his all-too-obvious and painful shortcomings, may be
even more difficult. Hamilton's Gabriel, with a broken-down trumpet strung
around his neck so that he can let St. Peter know when it is time to open the
gates, is outstanding. The Rep should cast him as often as possible.


The only problem portrayal was Welch as Cory. However, Welch does get the chance to
prove himself as an actor, and he comes through. But for much of the play he is
too much a moping teenager and not enough of an angry son, a problem with
direction rather than talent or casting. Welch and Franklin, who play the Maxson
sons, are both young actors that are clearly going places.


Director Gilbert McCauley notes that this production is highly influenced by
the artist Romare Bearden, a source Wilson himself cited. The set design,  
which places the Maxsons home and yard, as well as the fence they are building
around it, in the forefront, against representations of the gritty machinery and
alienation of urban Pittsburgh and its deep and dark colors, relieved only by
the clothing of the characters, establish a tone that is hard to shake.


Modern media consumers are often not used to sitting through long presentations. Go
to "Fences" ready to settle in, as the running time is at least two hours and
30 minutes. Think Arthur Miller, whose plays usually clock in similarly. I am
certainly not warning about the length of the dialogue-heavy and fairly
fast-paced play. Rather, I believe it's worth your time.