New Haven Register (New Haven, CT)
Real Elm City quandary is rendered smartly
As the case of Ricci v. DeStefano played out in Elm City, many citizens followed the suit with keen interest along its circuitous journey to landmark status in the Supreme Court.
From the time legal proceedings commenced in 2003 through to its precedent-setting resolution in Washington in 2009, the case proved to be worth its weight (and wait) in gold, supplying copious amounts of copy to study.
Karen Hartman’s new theater piece, “Good Faith: Four Chats about Race and the New Haven Fire Department,” superbly rendered in its world premiere at Yale Repertory Theatre through Feb. 23, is a fresh opportunity to hear a handful of key players in Ricci v. DeStefano talk of how the case affected them, and how they’ve moved on with their lives.
Commissioned by Yale Rep, Hartman’s play is primarily an aural experience. Its intimacy suggests that “Good Faith” could serve effectively as a radio play, or, so as to not miss the visual body language, with a few chairs and minimal staging. Kenny Leon directs the piece just so, choosing to let the characters’ lively debates and often beautifully articulated perspectives supply the dynamic energy and spirit of the production.
Most dramatic are scenes where the firefighters simply sit (or stand) face-toface as they exalt, argue and sometimes agree with each other, speaking over or simultaneously in front of their interviewer. In the case of two African-American firefighters, Tyrone and Mike, their fervent discourse unfolds like any choice contrapuntal duet by Sondheim. This is when “Good Faith” most vividly extols the humanity of the case.
Culled mostly from court transcripts, news articles and personal interviews in 2014 and 2017 with the principals in the real-life courtroom drama, Hartman literally inserts herself in the play as the character of the Writer (an engaging Laura Heisler). She starts the play with a direct address to the audience amid Stephanie Osin Cohen’s open scenic design, where the top and sides of the Rep’s proscenium are awash in firehouse steely red.
Opening her play with an analogy, Hartman fully discloses her involvement in the caper lest any theatergoer suspect that she — a two-time Yalie — harbors any hidden, liberal agenda favoring the African-American firefighters. As incarnated by Heisler, the Writer initially discloses that accepting this commission is not only a grand project professionally but also wipes away her outstanding student loans.
Written and staged in very presentational style, Hartman quickly introduces the characters, specifically Firefighter Frank
Ricci (Ian Bedford, who plays secondary characters, as well), a white man who now is an instructor at the New Haven Fire Academy; and the two previously cited black firefighters — Mike (Billy Eugene Jones), a firefighter in 2003 now working for the city in a media capacity with a Ph.D. under his belt; and the relatively conservative Tyrone (Rob Demery, also playing secondary characters), now a captain whose sagacity belies his relative lack of formal education.
There is also Karen (Rene Augesen, also playing a world-weary server at a diner), the tenacious lawyer representing the plaintiffs among the “New Haven 20” (19 of them Caucasian, one Hispanic ) in their discrimination suit against the city for denying them promotions despite their qualifying scores on the union-approved, certified exam.
Hartman proffers history and legalese through talking heads, including thenMayor John DeStefano Jr., Judge Victor Bolden and lawyer John Payton among them. They present the hard facts and legal significance of the case as briefly and clearly as possible without discernibly dragging on the pace. These asides also provide welcome opportunities for theatergoers to digest the often-spirited debates among the three firefighters, as well a breather from such intensely riveting discourse so deftly performed by the excellent cast.
What comes across clearly is that Hartman’s Writer character is obviously a participant, as we see her asking questions to ignite conversation. Yet she virtually disappears as the ensuing rhetorical flurries whirl throughout the theater. She tees up the discussion and then wisely gets out of the way as the men have at it. While at times of heightened tension one senses Ricci’s understandable caution with his words in front of the Writer lest he appear to her (and her potential audience) as racially insensitive, it seems that the subjects are comfortable enough with the Writer to share their stories with her. The audience will judge whether they do so open-heartedly or for selfpreservation.
Even though “Good Faith” is essentially a play of ideas, it is filled with tension, suspense and structure. The whole project doesn’t merely put familiar faces on a most consuming issue of our time, it reveals its heart and soul from the unique perspective of a few diverse, wellintentioned human beings most affected by this case. “Good Faith” is about compassion and empathy.