The Alliance Theatre’s “Hands Up,” a series of “testaments” written by seven Black playwrights on a theme of what it means to be Black in America, was initially commissioned and developed under the auspices of the New Black Fest, in response to the fatal shooting of unarmed Black teenager Michael Brown by a white police officer in 2014 in Ferguson, Missouri.
As with most anthologies, of course, some of the individual segments are better conceived or more profoundly implemented than others, but the overall dramatic effect of the show (mounted in partnership with Spelman College) is suitably overwhelming. Working with an ensemble of nine capable actors and an innovative group of designers, the production is vividly staged by co-directors Keith Arthur Bolden and Alexis K. Woodard.
The play’s first monologue calmly warns the audience that “what you’re about to hear will not be pleasant,” and the last urgently compels us to keep our own hands up for its duration to fully grasp how “uncomfortable” it feels. Throughout, “Hands Up” is a rather consistently sobering 100 minutes of theater that contradicts Bolden’s curious assertion in the program notes about “empowering people to find their Black joy, their happy space.”
That doesn’t mean the show is a total downer or devoid of any instances of uplift at all, just that they aren’t typically within the narratives themselves. Each of the cast members has moments to register in his or her own monologue, for example, but they also join in as a Greek chorus of sorts when it isn’t their turn to be front and center — clapping their hands, pounding their fists or stomping their feet in almost musical unison, speaking or singing in tandem to reiterate thoughts or comments from whichever other actor they’re observing at the time.
Take an alphabetical bow, Brandon Burditt, Marlon Andrew Burnley, London Carlisle, Sean M. Dale, Charence Higgins, Marcus Hopkins-Turner, Jessenia Ingram, Kala Ross and Josh Turner.
Credit: Jessie Garrett
Credit: Jessie Garrett
The Alliance design team similarly collaborates to enhance and elevate the potentially grim and disheartening subject matter. Kudos to the customarily evocative lighting of Ben Rawson, in addition to the elaborate projections of Milton Cordero that are reflected against the backdrop of Isabel A. and Moriah Curley-Clay’s scenery (resembling fragmented pieces of an American map). Other flourishes involve the detailed soundscape of Chris Lane and Lorenzo Moore, the costumes by Pamela Rodriguez-Montero, and Morgan Hawkins’ work as movement consultant.
A few vignettes in “Hands Up” specifically address confrontations between Blacks and frequently aggressive, sometimes brutal white cops, including Burnley’s solid “Superiority Fantasy” (written by Nathan James), as a man who’s tired of “apologizing for the color of my skin,” recounting an unwarranted encounter with them that gets out of hand.
Credit: Jessie Garrett
Credit: Jessie Garrett
In the chilling “Dead of Night… The Execution of…” (by Nambi E. Kelley), the three women in the ensemble (Higgins, Ingram, Ross) portray variations of the same character, who loses her “poetry and rhythm” after suffering physical abuse at the hands of her (white) boyfriend, and the inexplicable indignity of being jailed when the cops swallow his side of the story over hers.
“How I Feel” (by Dennis Allen II), featuring an impassioned Burditt, questions the concepts of terms like “post-racial” and “color-blind,” the political and sociological contextualization of the world we live in, and the hopeful need for (and sad absence of) a sense of common humanity.
The debatable highpoint in the play could be “Abortion” (by NSangou Njikam), which offers an astonishing showcase for actor Carlisle. He begins the monologue as an inquisitive youngster asking his father about “where babies come from,” gradually evolving into a cheerful teenager espousing love and freedom, and later maturing as a prospective father of his own imagined child, before finally embracing and expressing startling “ideas” about fear and sacrifice.
The scene isn’t the only one in “Hands Up” that takes our collective breath away, but where many of them involve devastating realities about race and racism that are somewhat repetitive in their tragic familiarity, this episode essentially broadsides us with a singular unexpectancy.
THEATER REVIEW
“Hands Up”
Through Oct. 31. 7:30 p.m. Tuesday (Oct. 19 only); 7:30 p.m. Wednesdays-Thursdays; 8 p.m. Fridays; 2:30 and 8 p.m. Saturdays; 2:30 p.m. Sundays. $25-$45 ($10 for teens). Alliance Theatre Hertz Stage (at the Woodruff Arts Center), 1280 Peachtree Road NE, Atlanta. 404-733-5000, www.alliancetheatre.org.
Bottom line: Always thought-provoking, if sporadically repetitive.
About the Author
