A Delicate Balance

So last night, in my ongoing attempts to stay current and support independent theatre, I checked out a local San Francisco theatre house's production of Edward Albee's Pulitzer Prize winning play, A Delicate Balance.

I hate to say it, but it was pretty weak.

Okay, so an upper middle class family spends an hour and a half of my time boasting on and on about the loneliness of their quiet lives of privilege out in suburbia somewhere. Fine. The play is salvaged by the few moments of truth that come from the blithe, diva-esque, alcoholic sister who butts in on every serious conversation and forces people to stop dancing around the truth and say what they were actually feeling. Good. Now, the "dramatic peak" in the play is when the family's best friends arrive unannounced and lock themselves upstairs in their daughters old room with no intention of leaving. Interesting. This leads them into a procession of elaborate monologues between husband, wife, alcoholic sister, and spoiled daughter, the theme of keeping a balance revisited every now and then, if you cared enough to listen carefully.

I wish I could say I loved it, because I generally love the live theatre, but the truth is that at no time during the entire production did I feel an ounce of sympathy for any of the characters. Their plight seem flighty and unbelievable. Their monologues overly wordy and full of moments of indecision.

The only character I felt bad for was the one Black actor in the play, Harry, who played a shy, stuttering, relatively one dimensional character who spoke like he was a servant happy to be in these folks home. As articulate as all these characters were (and they went over the top...the types who would say ''i wholeheartedly concur" instead of "yea i see your point" ), why is it that the one Black character, who had several lines, cant manage to have more than a monosyllabic word written into his script?

Now...maybe its because I was the only Black person in the audience, maybe. Maybe its because I'm taking an African American Lit class right now thats opening my eyes up to these sorts of things, but it amazes me how Bamboozled African American actors still are, even today.

Sorry to Hate, but Not Recommended.