CLYBOURNE PARK by Bruce Norris, directed by Joel Greenberg, with Audrey Dwyer, Michael Healey, Sterling Jarvis, Jeff Lillico, Mark McGrinder, Kimwun Perehinec and Maria Ricossa (Studio 180/Canadian Stage). At Berkeley Street Theatre (26 Berkeley). Opens tonight (Thursday, April 5) and runs to April 28, Monday-Saturday 8 pm, matinees Wednesday 1:30 pm and Saturday 2 pm. $22-$49, some Monday pwyc. 416-368-3110. See listing.
Playwright Bruce Norris’s Clybourne Park explores race relations in a surprising manner: it dissects with comedy.
Set in a Chicago suburb, the narrative follows the sale of a house first in 1959 and then in 2009. In the earlier period, a black family has bought the house, much to the consternation of the white neighbours. In the latter, a white family plans to purchase the house and faces opposition from others in the neighbourhood.
“Some of the strongest comedy in the play comes from the pain of the various characters, whose personal stories all have, at some level, a tragic quality,” says actor Sterling Jarvis, who, like most of the other performers, takes on two roles.
In the first act, he’s Albert, married to Francine, the maid in the house of Russ and Bev, who are selling because of painful memories associated with the home. In the second, he plays Kevin, the husband of firecracker Lena, a woman who has some pointed questions for the white couple who hope to buy and renovate the house.
“It’s a really resonant play,” explains Jarvis, “with as much uneasiness as laughter. In the 1959 act, the other characters talk about Albert and Francine, who are in the same room, as if they weren’t there. From the viewpoint of a 2012 audience, there’s that uncomfortable feeling of not believing that the white figures would do that in the presence of the Albert and Francine.
“In 2009, it’s much harder to see the underlying racism, which comes in the form of jokes. People serve these racially loaded tennis balls over the net to each other, and the situation starts to escalate. Everyone has a bias in this act, the jokes are funny in part because they’re out there and straightforward.
“The characters in both time periods try to hide the internal racism that, at some level, they all have and sometimes aren’t even aware of. It’s the audience that gets the humour in that.”
Clybourne Park gives Jarvis a chance to show off his talent in a pair of contrasting roles, something he also did last fall in Caroline, Or Change: playing the hellishly hot, tormenting Dryer and the mourning Bus announcing the death of JFK. He’s also been in The Overwhelming, Ruined, The Lion King and We Will Rock You.
“I see 1959’s Albert as a businessman in the black community, a polite and kind man who’s smart enough to know what not to say in the political climate in which he and Francine live. But he’s also proud, and the challenge for him is to stand and take what he has to and not react the way he’d like to.
“He’s done well in terms of the period he drives a Pontiac, a special car at that time, and the white characters are surprised that he owns it. I see him as a brave, heroic character with a sense of compassion who understands the tragedy in the house where his wife works.”
What links Albert to 2009’s Kevin is a non-confrontational quality of being easy to get along with.
“Like Albert, Kevin is also intelligent and practical in his dealing with finance, mortgages and real estate,” smiles Jarvis. “He believes it’s easier to get deals done with kindness rather than aggression. Not wanting to bring emotion into a deal, he’s the opposite of his wife Lena, who enjoys butting heads with others.”
The actor admires playwright Norris for the layered nature of the writing and the way he juggles Clybourne Park’s various tones.
“Even when we were rehearsing, we thought we were going in one direction and Norris takes a left turn to arrive at a place you never expected to be. Sometimes you don’t realize how unsettling an early remark can be until the second act, or how the same words said 50 years later have a totally different feel. In fact, some of the dialogue is repeated word for word in both acts, but the situation is totally flipped because of the people speaking the lines.
“In the first act, blacks plan to move into a white community and we see the problems that the white majority perceives will arise. In the second, the community is largely black and for seemingly different reasons – the new owners want to change the height of the house – there’s a confrontation.
“Both acts, though, deal with race. In the first, the topic is closer to the surface. In the second, an era of political correctness, people have mastered the way of saying things in inoffensive ways. But at the same time, they’ve also become adept at seeing right through that political correctness and know exactly what’s being discussed.
“In being so politically correct, it’s easy to offend again. And that’s part of the humour of the play.”
jonkap@nowtoronto.com