The Morning Journal (Lorain, OH)
Production of ‘A Raisin in the Sun’ doesn’t reach its potential
Langston Hughes’ poem “Harlem,” penned in 1951, asks “What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun?” Lorraine Hansberry attempted to address these questions in a play — her first to be produced — that debuted on Broadway in 1959. The result, the now-classic “A Raisin in the Sun,” serves as a celebration of African-American strength garnered through generations of personal struggle and slow-coming social change. The production of her play not only was important, it was historic. Broadway had never seen a play written by a black woman, a play with a black director or a commercially produced drama about the truth of black people’s lives. And — in a truly remarkable theatrical season that showcased Paul Newman and Geraldine Page in Tennessee Williams’s “Sweet Bird of Youth,” Helen Hayes and Kim Stanley in Eugene O’Neill’s “A Touch of the Poet,” and Christopher Plummer and Raymond Massey in Archibald MacLeish’s “J.B.” — Hansberry’s play earned four Tony nominations. “A Raisin in the Sun” takes place in a rundown-but-immaculate onebedroom apartment on the south side of Chicago that is occupied by the Younger family. The story centers on a $10,000 life insurance check from the recent passing of the Younger patriarch, Big Walter. Awaiting its delivery, each family member envisions the money granting a personal dream. The matriarch, Lena, wants to obtain something her ancestors never had: ownership of a floor, four walls and a small patch of land. Her restless son, Walter Lee, wants to invest in a liquor store to get a small piece of the American dream dominated by whites. Her daughter, Beneatha, dreams of medical school and saving the world. Ruth, Walter Lee’s beleaguered wife, dreams of starting life anew to snap her family out of its growing and deepening malaise. Over the course of this threehour play, each of their dreams get deferred, and so this thought-provoking, riveting piece of theater is also about human dignity and endurance. In its current production at Ensemble Theatre, director Celeste Cosentino doesn’t so much want to remind the audience this play is important as much as demonstrate this play is good. She has pulled together a talented cast and crew to do so but, as of its the opening Saturday- night performance, the show was still a week away from being all it can be. Actually, Nichole Sumlin, as Ruth, and Eugene Sumlin, as Walter Lee, are already there. As the key provider of pathos in this tale, Ruth — like the apartment that confines her (realistically rendered by scenic designer Walter Boswell and lighting designer Ian Hinz) — is tired, distressed and desperate for renovation. Sumlin brings an inner strength and authenticity to the role, which makes her an engrossing presence onstage even — no, especially — when she is standing speechless in the background. The male Sumlin is a remarkable actor who effectively exposes the frustration of a man who sees himself as a player living in a world incapable of recognizing his potential. His high-strung character’s dreams are merely schemes, but Sumlin’s passionate performance allows us to sense Walter Lee’s heartfelt desire to realize them and his blindness to the brutal failure that lies waiting. Only some minor mishaps with line delivery momentarily undermine the actor’s efforts and the character’s integrity. But what appears to be insufficient preparation mars the other performances. It keeps Angela Gillespie Winborn from digging deeper and finding the core of the matriarch’s nobility of spirit and unflinching religious faith that has yet to be fully mined. She is more than capable of owning the stage with each entrance, but isn’t there yet. Similarly, Zyrece Montgomery’s portrait of the overachieving daughter, Leilani Barrett and Nnamdi Okpala’s portrayals of her erudite and elitist suitors, respectively, Bobby Williams as Walter’s prospective business partner, and Chris Bizub as the sanctimonious white man attempting to keep the Youngers into moving into his neighborhood would all benefit from more rehearsal time. The same is true for Easton Sumlin as the youngest Younger. Their acting shows, so they often appear to be speaking Hansberry’s lines rather than sharing their truths. Perhaps it is this play’s legacy and not just the quality of the writing that sets such a high bar for its performance. Regardless, this production is good, but there is no shortage of signs that it can be great.