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Jackson (Grantham Coleman) is positive that the neighborhood of his youth holds his answer. An African-American, he grew up in a rough corner of Brooklyn, but worked hard for a scholarship that catapulted him out of trouble and into Exeter, and then Harvard, and then a high-paying career as a lawyer. Now, his security assured, he's bought a luxurious apartment down the block from his old home (the only thing that he can't make extravagant is the door buzzer; you have to go downstairs to see who's at the door), and he's is betting that the gentrification that's sweeping the area will, in ten years' time, transform it into the hipster paradise of his wildest dreams and wipe away the bitter memories of his tortured upbringing. Though Jackson convinces his white girlfriend, Suzy (Tessa Ferrer), to move in with him there, for her the move is rather less than ideal. Though she's hardly afraid of those on the lower end of the income ladder—she teaches underprivileged kids—she's not prepared for being one of the few white women on the street. She attracts some unwanted attention from the black men across the way, and deals with it in a manner that worsens an already-troublesome situation. As for Don (Michael Stahl-David), he doesn't even have a home; his rich father kicked him out of his high-rise Manhattan apartment after one too many drug relapses (he just had his seventh, or maybe his eighth). Best friends with Jackson from high school, Don begs to stay in his palace for at least six months while he recovers again and gets back on his feet. Suzy's not thrilled with the idea—she and Don have a rocky history that's revealed only gradually—but she relents, and the three promise to share living quarters, but no secrets. It doesn't take long for their competing visions of what was, what is, and what should be to ignite plenty of stress among the three, and push their joint issues back to the surface where they can wreak the most havoc. These are myriad and varied, with views on race and class tightly intertwined with toxic personality traits and interactions with the others; it takes a while to learn just who everyone is and what he or she wants, and none of the eventual discoveries is, well, a black-and-white one. There are prejudices a-plenty at play, but rarely what you'd expect, and there are no straightforward good guys or bad guys. Everyone is uniquely and colorfully screwed up, which gives Wilson maximum room to maneuver in looking at how we treat ourselves as well as those we care most about. Her character writing is particularly intricate (this was also the case with her previous fine plays at The Public, The Story and The Good Negro), with the starchy Jackson's internal conflict about what he can prove to the future standing as a stark contrast to Don's representation of an uncomfortable, unhappy past. And when Suzy gets caught between the two, and her allegiance (and affections) begin wobbling, it seems less a case of dramatic expediency than a believable instance of circumstances allowing preexisting doors to open naturally in ways that were previously impossible. There's not much plot here, and one of the play's few weaknesses is that Wilson doesn't have a bit broader of a canvas on which to let Jackson, Suzy, and Don express themselves; big chunks of the relationships are built and conducted offstage, leaving the (excellent) remainder of the writing to perhaps bear too much weight. Even so, director Anne Kauffman keeps the action developing continuously and cleanly, utilizing Laura Jellinek's spacious set and Matt Frey's piercing lighting to convey both the joys and the agonies of having more room than you absolutely need to properly conduct your life. Ferrer is a shade stiff, her Suzy not quite as obviously malleable as she could be, and this gives a jagged edge to a few scenes that might be more effective if they were softer. But she's otherwise terrific, as are Coleman, who's masterful at underexpressing Jackson's innate rage and questionable motives, and Stahl-David, a sterling example of a well-meaning soul locked within an overly weak shell. And when the three performers unite, in any combination, no shortage of sparks fly. That's not surprising, as determining where you belong and then actually figuring out how to live there in all the ways you need to can be lifetime pursuits that don't always leave room for others. Wilson recognizes this and exploits it without ever becoming exploitative, or trivializing the very real, very personal backgrounds that made Jackson, Suzy, and Don the flawed and fascinating people they are. And through her insightful and often lacerating writing, she offers a reminder that whether the land makes the person or the person makes the land, what matters most is the kind of person who results.
Buzzer
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