Who decides what is Black enough? That is a Gordian knot that has no solution. Is Blackness in the eye of the beholder or is it an accumulation of cultural influences that solve the puzzle for some and not for others? Theo Ubique gifts us with a beautifully acted, sung, and directed Passing Strange that doesn’t untie the Gordian knot on the question of Blackness as a quantifiable measure. Director Tim Rhoze deftly has the actors present degrees of Black authenticity in a seamless and wonderfully outrageous cabaret version of the Broadway hit.
Passing Strange was born in the brain of Stew—born Mark Lamar Stewart—with music by him and Heide Rodewald in collaboration with director Annie Dorsen. The Broadway premiere in 2008 was the same year that a biracial man named Barack Obama was elected President of the United States. The questions of Obama’s authenticity as a Black man were on blast all of the time. Stew illuminates the burden of authenticity from his own background in the show.
The Narrator/Stew (Jordan DeBose) carries the audience through the show as a one-man Greek chorus looking back at his own youth in Los Angeles. DeBose is brilliant in the role. They combine carnival barker with a whiplash range of emotions and that voice knocked me out. I could hear church in DeBose’s range as he hit the high notes with the soulful sweetness of Syl Johnson and then growled the preacher-style singing that you can hear in many Black Baptist churches.
Michael Jones, Michael Mejia, and Jordan DeBose. Photo by Jay Towns.
The Youth (Michael Jones) wants to be a rock musician and rebels against having to go to church with Mother (Jenece Upton). Their introduction and the trajectory of their story are hilarious and heartbreaking. When it comes to church Upton effects the church's holy roller intonation and puts a comic exclamation point when she asks Youth in a sweet and cultured (aka White) voice, “Why don’t you hang out with your own people?” Upton is great as a mother who only wants the best for her son. They live in a beautiful home and Youth has all the advantages of being able to rebel, which was and is more of a White notion.
Michael Jones gives the Youth a range of emotion and energy with great comic timing. His “come to Jesus” moment at church is an authentic feeling of Spirit as rock and roll are heard in the gospel music. That music is where the Youth feels free and sees his calling. It also helps that the youth choir has a vixen named Edwina (Caitlin Dobbins) who dangles her goodies at the Youth to lure him in. Dobbins is sharp and perfect in all of the characters she plays. She glides from video vixen for Jesus to hippie chick to nihilist German filmmaker with such ease. Also, she has a tear-the-roof-off voice.
The depiction of the church choir was déjà vu for me. The choir leader Franklin (Michael Mejia) plays the role of a devoted pastor’s son who has a musical gift turned into a ministry, therefore, trapping him in the church. Mejia is so much fun as they go from a dorky youth minister who smokes pot with the “bad kids” before to Joop the body liberationist aka exhibitionist/flasher to Mr. Venus German performance artist. Mr. Venus wears a spiked collar, one glove, and a sneer of disdain.
Chamaya Moody returns to Theo Ubique where she previously played a newbie hooker in The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. Moody shines as a trio of characters in each city where the Youth lives. She is a Bad Church Kid who plays in the Youth’s punk rock band, then she is Renata the abstract artist in Amsterdam living on cigarettes, weed, and espresso. Her best role is as Desi the woman who loves the Youth in Berlin. Desi brings the Youth into the Haus with all of her nihilist artist friends. Moody keeps a fine balance with all three characters. No character is all one thing but rather people moving through the experiences of the Youth’s journey.
Elliot Sagay rounds out the main ensemble with a wonderful vulnerability as the Bad Church Kid, then an academic moonlighting as a party favor in Amsterdam to the sneering essayist Hugo in Berlin. I loved the spouting of philosophy that veers into a louche character in the red-light district.
Everywhere that the Youth goes, his Blackness is questioned. When he is himself, he needs to Blacken up, when he brings the “hood” to Berlin where he becomes the representation of a Black artist in an outsider’s eyes. The Youth grew up in middle-class comfort and he affects a gangsta rapper with a doomsday view that impresses the nihilist crowd in Berlin. However, Desi (Moody) accuses him of passing for Black when she sees through the tough killer façade.
The play's title comes from a line in act 1 of Shakespeare’s Othello; the title character says that a woman to whom he told a story found it "'twas strange, 'twas passing strange;" meaning extremely strange, in 16th century usage.
At the play's heart is the Youth whose grandmother passed for White for a particular job and then he is accused of passing for Black. It is an irony that Othello historically was played by White men passing for Black covered in Blackface makeup. That kind of Black was acceptable.
There is even an in-your-face song called “The Black One” that pulls some minstrel elements in with a carny vibe. The entire cast are wonderful singers and the choreography by Terri K. Woodall is brilliant. The dancing goes from a church shout to a jazz hands spoof on Al Jolson. Also moving about the cabaret theater was smooth and brought the action into the audience gracefully.
The music is directed by Dr. Michael McBride who also gets a cameo in the show where he is very funny. The musicians are a tight crew with McBride on keyboards, Harper Abigail on guitar (they rocked that guitar-—seriously) Willow Bloom on bass, and Ben Heppner on the drums keeping that backbeat sharp. The songs and lyrics by Stew and Heide Rodewald are a mix of rock and roll anthems, church songs, and tender ballads.
Props to the scenic design by Sydney Lynne and lighting by David Goodman-Edberg for the deceptively simple set and evocative lighting. Peyton Shearn is stage manager. As usual, the entire technical portion of a Theo Ubique production flows in concert with the action. There is one set but the lighting makes gives it a sense of place. The stark lighting and harsh strobe fit the idea of post-Wall Berlin. The red and blue lighting for the sensuous/seedy Amsterdam gives off a hint of Gauloises' smokiness. Autin Winters' costume design added an edgy and sordid places feel.
A lot is packed into Passing Strange but Rhoze’s direction is seamless with perfect beats and a beautiful symbiosis with the cast. The question of what is Black enough is not answered and will never be agreed upon wherever the distinction of race is so prevalent. As a Black woman, I have heard some of the same stuff. “You think you’re White,” because of the way I speak—and at the other extreme is being called numerous epithets for being Black enough to be seen in a sea of White faces in high school.
Passing Strange makes the point that an individual has to define themselves and be at peace with that and at peace with all of those who may be hurt or offended. I would say go into Passing Strange with an open mind but it may be better to go in with whatever preconceived notions that you have. This is a play that could rock your soul or it could give you the nerve to question your own identity. It will make you laugh and possibly cry; this cast elicited some tears and sniffling perhaps in recognition of a personal struggle. You will be moved by the music, the journey, and the concept of what is authentic to the construct of race.
Go and see Passing Strange at Theo Ubique Cabaret Theatre, 721 Howard St. in Evanston. The show runs through July 30 and comes in at about 2 hours and 20 minutes with one 20-minute intermission. There is a lovely bar for beverages at this cozy yet expansive venue. Tickets are available at www.theo-u.com.