Kwane Kwei-Armah
Seemingly
unbridgeable gulfs exist aplenty in Kwane Kwei-Armah’s Let There Be Love.
Divisions due to race, age, sex, sex orientation, immigrant status, and
class along with serious parent-child conflicts threaten at times to keep each
of our three principles islands unto themselves and at other times to pit two
against the third. Stir into this
mix a terminally ill senior man with an increasing death wish; a young
immigrant woman being seriously abused by her boyfriend; and a 30-something
daughter who is jobless, maybe homeless, and very bitter about how life (mostly
her Dad) has treated her. And yet,
all these troubled ingredients somehow add up to a story that is often funny,
totally engrossing, and very touching.
Alfred is
a elderly, former Caribbean, now English gentleman who lives alone in a big
house full of decades-old fixtures like knitted doilies, an afghan-covered
sofa, a globe-opening bar of liquors, and a console stereo complete with albums
from the ‘50s and ‘60s (all part of Daniel Ostling’s excellent set). We learn quickly Alfred’s health is
failing as we note the wheelchair in the corner, his bouts of coughing, and the
constant rubbing of his chest. We
also quickly see how he and his daughter Gemma, who drops in to convince him to
accept some home help, have a love/hate (with more emphasis on the latter)
relationship. He is upset she is
not more successful and ambitious; she is just mad, mad, mad at him for a list
of disappointments that have taken her a lifetime to accumulate. Throughout most of the play, their
interactions end with his demanding she leave after both of them have shouted
and cursed themselves hoarse.
Entering
this scene is Maria, a recent Polish immigrant who has been hired by Alfred’s
two daughters (one of whom we never meet) to watch after him on a daily
basis. The former immigrant Alfred
immediately rejects her and begins lashing out at how immigrants are now
ruining his country. (Sound
familiar, America?) But out of the
blue, a peacemaker mediates and transforms their relationship into what will
become a loving, mutually life-altering bond. Nat King Cole himself is that intermediary whose lyrics and
smooth tones rise from the stereo to connect their wide gulfs and even to
inspire needed actions of dilemmas each faces.
While we
were looking forward to seeing one of my favorite actors, Carl Lumbly, in the
role of Alfred, we were actually very fortunate to experience the outstanding
performance of Understudy Adrian Roberts (whom we immensely enjoyed a year ago
as Dr. Martin Luther King in TheatreWorks’ The Mountaintop). Never missing a beat and
with a Caribbean/English accent that spoke with great authenticity, Mr. Roberts
stepped into the role with great aplomb.
His creaky, cranky, cursing Alfred did not fool us or Gemma (the amazing
Donnetta Lavina Grays) as we and she soon peeled back one by own his frowns and
protestations to find a heart aching for love and attention, a man with generous
spirit, and a man full of stories and wisdom. Ms. Grays’ Gemma is a mixture of angel and fairy godmother who
seems to know just what to do to make Alfred’s daily life easier and even
joyous and how to heal in these last days his aching heart of past regrets and
present disappointments. When
Gemma and Alfred are on the stage together, there is a magic that happens that
was all the more wonderful the night of our performance in that it seemed that
these two particular actors had been doing these parts together for weeks, rather
than just performance or two.
As the
daughter Maria, Greta Wohlrabe is also very convincing in her obstinate,
persistent dislike of her father.
Bit by bit, we learn some of the whys and wherefores. Ms. Wohlrabe displays less breadth of
character development than the other two (who also have much more stage time
together), and I found it difficult to believe her Maria would take so long to
move an inch in closing the gap with her aging, obviously sick dad. Her main mode of expressing herself is
too often stomping, child-like fits.
When she does transform to an emotional state more expected of this sick
man’s daughter, the lateness and abruptness of character switch is almost too
much to believe.
A story
that begins with so much clashing of what often appear as irresolvable differences
in the end is really a story about love.
Love emerges in many forms and factors among both the seen and some key,
unseen players. The resolutions
that occur have to be taken on faith, for we do not see their being played
out. It would be easy to be
skeptical that so many years of built-up resentments could melt away so
quickly, but then we come back to Gemma, our miracle worker. For this play really to work, we must
endow on her the same faith that Alfred and even eventually Maria do; and I for
one was quite willing to do so. Gemma
totally convinces me that genuine love and care can work a miracle or two and
can bring peace. The final result
for me: a tear or two, a deep
sigh, and a fulfilled night at the theatre.
Rating: 5 E’s
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