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Writers Theatre scores a knockout production with Marco Ramirez’s 2013 play, The Royale. Under the direction of Tyrone Phillips, we see this widely-produced script (it played New York’s Lincoln Center a decade ago) executed to perfection. Centered on boxing legend Jack Johnson, it follows a fictionalized version of his story. In 1910 Johnson became the first Black world heavyweight champion by besting James Jeffries, the reigning heavyweight, who was white. 

The show opens with a mesmerizing percussive scene. For this production, the Writers Theatre stage is floored with rough hewn boards to make a boxing arena, the building’s back wall exposed with faded painted bricks. A punching bag hangs at the back of the set and as lights come up, a lone boxer is pummeling it. (Lauren Nichols is Scenic Designer.) 

Soon another boxer enters the stage and the two begin a wordless, precisely choreographed percussive dance centered on the bag, their footfalls resounding loudly, reaching a crescendo at the culmination, a scene that draws applause for its sheer inspired beauty. (Rasell Holt is Movement Director.) The audience knows it is in for something big in The Royale. 

Ramirez, a well-established Netflix writer (Orange is the New Black, Daredevil) keeps the tale rooted in the true story. Our fictional heavyweight star Jay is played superbly by Broadway star La’Tevin Alexander. And man, he is good! 

When Alexander takes the stage, his sculpted body is arresting and he is handsome in a Michael B. Jordan way. But as he begins to deliver his lines, he soon has us in his thrall, a larger than life force, like Muhammed Ali, supreme in his confidence and aiming at the top. Yet Jay is also warm and magnetic. We can’t help getting behind him. 

La’Tevin Alexander as Jay (left) and Ajax Dontavius as Fish, in a bout as trainer Wynton (James Vincent Meredith) looks on. Photo by Michael Brosilow.

Entering a spar with a visibly frightened first-time boxer Fish (Ajax Dontavius), Jay works the audience. “How many rounds you want me to give you?” he asks us, all calm and confident. The presentation of the match is inventive: the two stand at angles and shoulder to shoulder, then punch or receive hits toward the seated crowd, stomping their feet to sound the impacts. Particularly inspired is the lighting, which heightens the drama and delineates regions of the stage, such as the boxing ring, rectangles of light narrowing as bouts draw to a close. (Jason Lynch is Lighting Designer.)

After Round 4, Jay prances, feigning boredom perhaps. “How you all doing?” he asks us spectators, adding lightheartedly, “I heard tell there was a fight here tonight.” After he vanquishes Fish, who survives and even lands some blows that surprised his adversary, Jay hires him as his sparring partner. 

After the knockout, Jay dons a suit and reveals his ambition to his promoter Max (Scott Aielio): to take on the retired white championship boxer, Bigsby. (In real life, Jack Johnson coaxed James Jeffries out of retirement to take him on.) When Black people box each other, Jay says, their boxing stories only make the inside pages of the newspapers. But if he battles a white champion, Jay will make the front page, where even non-readers will register his fame. 

“Bixby’s never fought a Negro. No one ever has,” Jay says of his white counterparts. 

“The paper says Bixby would disgrace his legacy by stepping into the ring with you,” Max tells him. Such was the tenor of the times of Jim Crow. Nevertheless Jay drives his reluctant manager to negotiate a fight for him with Bixby, and Max scores an offer, albeit one-sided. Bixby wants 90 percent of the ticket sales.

Another character inhabits many scenes, Jay’s trainer Wynton (James Vincent Meredith). Limping and dispensing advice judiciously, Wynton triggers the description of a racist entertainment called “battle royales” (from which the play takes its name) in which a crowded ring of blindfold Black boxers battled until only one was left standing. 

Wynton also bears witness to Jay’s braggadocio, and toward the end, the aftermath of the boxer’s encounter with his sister Nina (AnJi White). She shows up like a deus ex machina to add gravity to Jay’s quest, just hours before the match. Jay is already struggling with nerves, having learned of multiple armed threats against his life, knowledge Wynton did not share with him. 

As Nina and Jay explore their shared past, Nina serves to reveal Jay’s deeper motives in his quest: to right wrongs where young Black women didn’t see themselves reflected in ideals of beauty, even maiming themselves with dangerous hair straightening chemical and hot iron treatments. 

Nina warns Jay of a potential consequence if he bests Bixby: Black people will be punished by whites angered in reaction to his success, should he win. In the dramatic structure, this added pressure suddenly summoned into the script so close to the end seems unnaturally crammed in, almost melodramatic in its effect. In my mind it detracted from the seriousness of the concern itself.

In fact Nina was proven right. In real life, race riots were ignited by Jack Johnson’s victory over Jeffries, documented in a huge newspaper front page unfurled at the final moment of the show. 

Two scenes I relished: Fish has given away his seat, and plans to listen to the fight on a radio in a bar, which will lead to another tragic event. Dontavius gives us Fish’s ecstatic joy over the imminent fight, which he showers obliviously on a deeply distressed Jay. The other scene is Scott Aielio’s soliloquy as Max on his dedication to Jay’s career, and the challenges it has presented for him as a white man steering Jay protectively as the boxer all the while flaunts the evil restrictions of Jim Crow. Max argues compellingly not to win gratitude, but to convince Jay that he has been and is truly dedicated to him. 

The Royale is highly recommended as a theatrical experience, and a worthy revelation of history less present today. It runs through November 29, 2026 at Writers Theatre in Glencoe, IL.

I’ve often said despite the larger houses producing August Wilson plays, they tend to work better in intimate spaces. After all, Mr. Wilsons’ inspiration came from intimate settings. He would write in bars, cafes, restaurants, and other places where his characters would be right in his face. He would often write long hand and sometimes on napkins to make himself invisible as a writer. It was important for him to catch the dialect, the accents, and the energy of his characters. Mr. Wilson began his career writing for small theaters, schools, and community centers where space was at a premium.

American Blues minimalist production of “Fences” under the direction of Monty Cole is powerful, bold, and beautiful. I love when theaters take chances. No guts, no glory….and there is plenty of glory here.

To contain the largest of emotions within boundaries, Scenic designer Yeaji Kim has created a huge, whitewashed fence reaching the heavens on both ends of the playing area. On the north end it appears to still be under construction. On the south end there is a door leading into the house while when closed is unnoticed. There are 5 cushions for players to be seated when they are not on stage. There are 60 chairs in total on either side of the playing area. It’s akin to a baseball field. The characters are so close you can count the beads of sweat on their brow, their emotions so big, no regular sized fence was going to hold them in.

We get up close and personal with Troy Maxson. Kamal Angelo Bolden’s Troy was not encumbered by anyone who previously played this role. This Troy was much more complicated than I’ve ever seen, FULL STOP. At varying times, this Troy showed love, he showed anger, he showed fear, he was a child, he was a monster, but most of all he showed a vulnerable side. It’s the vulnerability the audience connected with. Despite his ugliness, his meanness, and boorish ways if we look deep into his eyes, we see a man hurt. We see a man who values work more than education. In those rare moments of silence, we see what could have been, and our hearts ache for him.

Playing opposite Troy is the hard-working Rose, his wife of 18 years. She knows this man; she has built her life around him. She soothes over his relationships with his sons.  She is the heart and soul of this family. She cooks, she cleans, she loves. She is saint like in her patience with Troy until she isn’t. We see mini eruptions until it grows too much to control until she loses herself or does she find herself.  Shanesia Davis’ beautifully understates Rose until she can’t anymore. It is some beautiful theatre having a front seat to her emotional build.

A man like Troy Maxson needs all the support he can muster, and no one does it better than his friend and confidant, Bono, engagingly played by Martel Manning. No one could question Troy about his dalliance except Bono. Manning brilliantly steps into the lion’s den and raises the issue. I loved the way his mannerisms changed when talking to Troy about “that gal”.

Troy’s two sons born a decade apart, to two different women are Cory, energetically played by Ajax Dontavius and Lyons, the charismatic William Anthony Sebastian Rose II. Troy treats both men the same the only difference is Cory lives in his home, so he has more control over him.  He verbally abuses Lyons. Special shout-out to Charlie Baker, the Fight & Intimacy Director. Unbelievable stagecraft. The fights and intimacy looked awful real. I almost ducked when Cory was swinging the bat.

Rounding out this family is Gabriel, Troy’s brain damaged brother, played with wonderful control by Manny Buckley. I loved how tight and controlled Buckley played Gabriel. He played the character with great respect for brain damaged people without forfeiting characterization. Gabriel sees what we can’t see. He feels what we can’t feel. Buckley expressed this perfectly.

Stephanie Cluggish’s costumes suggested the times. I especially like what she did with Rose’s funeral outfit. Very inventive.

This production had an air of spirituality, of otherworldliness, I’ve never seen before. This was largely the result of Jared Gooding’s lighting design.  It worked beautifully

In Wilson’s N.Y. Times obituary, he is quoted as telling the Paris Review: “I think my plays offer (white Americans) a different way to look at black Americans. For instance, in ‘Fences’ they see a garbageman, a person they don’t really look at, although they see a garbageman every day. By looking at Troy’s life, white people find out that the content of this black garbageman’s life is affected by the same things – love, honor, beauty, betrayal, duty. Recognizing that these things are as much part of his life as theirs can affect how they think about and deal with black people in their lives.”

Yeah right, let’s hope this is true. In any case, American Blues Theater and Monty Cole has put these characters on full display with all the fury and might deserving of them and a weary America thanks you.

“Fences” runs through Aug. 6 at Theater Wit, 1229 W. Belmont. For tickets visit americanbluestheater.com or phone (773) 975-8150.

Lifeline Theatre has remounted 'Middle Passage' for its return to live production. It is every bit as good, even better, than the run cut short by the pandemic in March 2020.

But this time around I was better able to appreciate the artfulness of the script. Adapted by Ilesa Duncan (who co-directs with David Barr II) from a best-selling National Book Award winning novel by scholar Dr. Charles Johnson. Middle Passage the book is a fictional first-person narrative set in 1830 by a 20-year-old freed slave, Rutherford Calhoun (Ajax Dontavius), who makes his way from Southern Illinois to New Orleans to sow his wild oats.

It is an exciting show: absolutely entertaining, well-produced, extremely well-acted. It would have been a crying shame if audiences didn't get another chance to see the inventive staging, a realistic ship's deck crammed into Lifeline's compact quarters at 6912 N. Glenwood in Chicago. It runs through June 5 so don't miss it.

Entertaining as it is, 'Middle Passage' also recounts the enslavement and transport of Africa’s Almuseri people, their inhumane treatment by a cruel ship’s captain, and plans by the captain to sell their most sacred possession, a statue of a living god kept stowed with the slaves below. How do these opposites co-exist in one play? Sadly, just as they do in daily life. 

Ajax Dontavius as Rutherford Calhoun carries the weight of the show, onstage nearly every minute, and he acquits hiimself exceptionally well as the wandering young man. Like a 19th century literary character (think Thackeray’s Barry Lyndon), we live his experiences through Calhoun's first-person point of view. As the good and bad pass before his eyes during his adventures, he makes frequent asides to speak directly to the audience—really very Shakespearean, with some of these in metered rhyme. As in life the lighthearted moments and the tragic co-exist, and at first, Calhoun drifts through them all, witnessing but unaffected.

Calhoun is on the make in New Orleans, and without means – courting young ladies, but also running up debts. This comes to the notice of Papa Zeringue (Lynsey Falls is excellent), a Creole mob boss holding 50,000 francs in Calhoun’s promissory notes. Papa Zeringue tells Calhoun he must pay, or he will be thrown into the deeps of the Mississippi. 

Thankfully for Calhoun, he has won the heart of the chaste school marm, Isadora (Shelby Lynn Bias is superb in the role), a very refined young Black schoolteacher from Boston, whose family has been free four generations. Isadora has some savings, and unbeknownst to Calhoun, negotiates to pay his debts to Papa Zeringue, on the condition Calhoun is forced to marry her.

Calhoun is not interested in marriage, and so escapes by stowing aboard the ship Republic. Discovered days after it puts out to sea, he joins the crew, but soon learns the Republic is an illegal slaver, on its way to Africa to pick up human cargo. With that, the story opens to an exciting seafaring tale with all the trappings—storms, cannon fire, mutiny, betrayals, culminating in a shipwreck following a slave rebellion. Here, as my companion noted the blocking is remarkable, the tiny stage presenting a ship tossed on the sea, conveyed by the carefully orchestrated movements of the crew and cargo tossed to and fro. 

Calhoun is there for selfish reasons - “Of all the things that drive men to sea, the most common disaster, I've come to learn, is women” – as one character puts it. As an “everyman” character, we watch Calhoun try to avoid dirtying his hands in a mutiny, and later negotiating with the slaves who seize the ship. But Calhoun changes through his experience, befriending the slaves and shifting from aloof observer to their advocate. convincing the slaves to spare the helmsman who alone can guide them back to their homeland. Calhoun develops his moral compass through the trials, and as my companion suggests, is like the hero in the tale of Gilgamesh, back where he started as the boat finally returns to port in New Orleans, but a changed man, and a beautiful resolution of the series of plot points follows.

In addition to Baily and Dontavius, the cast is uniformly good - really good - and most play multiple ensemble roles, as well as their principle character: Hunter Bryant (Calhoun’s brother Jackson), also, notably plays the role of a young slave learning English who bonds with Calhoun. All the players are good: Patrick Blashill (Captain Falcon) and Christopher Vizurraga (Peter Cringle); Benjamin Jenkins (Santos), Monty Kane (Jackson/Ngonyama), Robert Koon (Josiah Squibb), MarieAnge Louis-Jean (Baleka), Kellen Robinson (Tom), and Gerrit Wilford (McGaffin).

The production team are also stars, kudos to Alan Donahue (Scenic and Properties Designer), Elise Kauzlaric (Dialect Coach), Maren Robinson (Dramaturg); Amelia Ablan (Production Manager), Noah Abrams (Master Electrician), Kyle Bajor (Co-Lighting Designer),, Barry Bennett (Sound Designer), Connor Blackwood (Assoc. Sound Designer), Alex Gendal (Projections Designer), Galen Hughes (Asst. Stage Manager), Harrison Ornelas (Technical Director), Nicole Clark Springer (Choreographer/Movement Designer), Mattie Switzer (Stage Manager), Scott Tobin (Co-Lighting Designer), Shawn Wallace (Composer/Music Director), and Anna Wooden (Costume Designer).

Alan Donohue's gives us a lovingly crafted sailing vessel with multiple decks, stowage, working winch, mast and beam – all integrated to the projection design and sound design makes us feel for all the world we are at sea, particularly during storms and battles. 

The play originated at Pegasus Players in 2016 as 'Rutherford’s Travels.' But this version seems very strongly rooted in African storytelling culture, which taps a type of magical realism, to my mind (like Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad). Its title is far more resonant today: Middle Passage also refers to the slave shipping route that represents the crucible of emotional and spiritual transformation of human beings from free, cultured Africans to impoverished American slaves.

Highly recommended, see 'Middle Passage' at www.lifelinetheatre.com.