AN EPIC FORM OF EXPRESSION
Playwright’s debut a creative triumph
The Lamentable Tragedy of Sal Capone, the first play by Montreal-born Omari Newton, reminds me of a musician’s debut album. As they say in the music industry, you have your whole life to make your first record; as a result, it’s often an epic form of creative expression.
Such is the case here as Newton tackles issues drawn from his experience growing up as a black man immersed in hiphop culture. The central theme concerns police brutality, but it’s wrapped in a myriad of other elements, including racism, white privilege, homophobia, misogyny, the glorification of violence, the lure of a gun, corruption of the innocent and how peaceful protest can escalate into chaos.
No question, it’s a lot to pack into one 90-minute performance. To his credit, Newton succeeds in weaving it all together into a passionate and compelling tale, full of humorous twists, absurd turns, broad characters and plenty of intoxicating beats to illustrate the struggle on the streets. His friend and mentor, director Diane Roberts, brings it to the stage with skill and ingenuity.
On a stage holding a dumpster, scaffolding and a pile of skids, the story is set in the gritty Real City, Canada, where a gangsta rap trio called Sal Capone is gearing up for an album launch when their DJ, Sam I Am, is shot — nine times — by police. While he clings to life in hospital, his mates and their manager debate whether to go on with the show.
The mates are Sal, an imposing black man played by Tristan D. Lalla, and Jewel, a tiny but ferocious Filipino woman, brilliantly played by Kim Villagante, determined to be taken seriously in the guys’ game of hip-hop.
Their manager is a selfabsorbed white dude, Chase Cheddar, played by Jordan Waunch, while Sal’s little sister, the grammar-preoccupied good girl, Naomi, played by Letitia Brookes, rounds out the cast.
In addition to the complicated dynamics of this dysfunctional street “family,” there’s a narrator to introduce, a transvestite sex worker named Shaneyney who refers to herself as Mama. Played by Troy Emery Twigg, the loudmouth character represents one of the unique quirks of this play — she is a crude but streetwise observer who calls the audience “tourists” in a derogatory tone, and is detached from the action. In fact, the action freezes when she speaks, at least until she’s drawn into the tale in a spectacular fashion, kicking and screaming in a convincingly choreographed fight scene.
It’s unnerving to realize the script was written well before the Black Lives Matter movement. Newton started it after the 2008 Montreal police shooting of an unarmed teenager, Fredy Villanueva, as a way to deal with his frustration.
There have been major changes in the political climate since, which are reflected in this updated production, but also many more deaths of unarmed black men at the hands of police. It’s also impossible to pretend that Canada is immune to the problem — the sound clips from the coverage of the death of Abdirahman Abdi, the man who died after a violent encounter with Ottawa police, bring that point home.
The booming beats and reallife sound bites are an effective part of this play’s storytelling tool kit, but none of it would work without a cast so wellversed in hip-hop performance. While Lalla turns in some heartfelt readings of spoken-word poetry and Waunch does a beatboxing bit that kills, in my mind, it’s Villagante (Jewel) who steals the show with her unrelenting attitude and never-ending flow of rhymes.
Who is this dynamo? The production notes indicate she’s a Vancouver-based emcee/singer-songwriter who calls herself Kimmortal and has a second album due this summer.
In the end, the play pulls no punches in illuminating the daily realities of marginalized and racialized communities, but it does its work with love and a welcome, occasionally absurd, sense of humour.
To follow up, Newton is working on a new play, written from the perspective of the police officer. Like any fan anticipating the second album from their new favourite artist, I can’t wait to see it.