
It’s quite a different experience, I’ll tell you that. We had tickets to see Dominique Morisseau’s play Paradise Blue at the Studio Theatre yesterday. You may not be familiar with either the play or Morisseau, but even if you were, this production would differ greatly from whichever earlier one you had seen. Whether this is for the better or not, I am not really sure. But this production was worth seeing not only because the acting was terrific, but because it was so unique.
First, a few sentences about the plot. From the plot, you will see that this is a play that Donald Trump would certainly not want to have performed at the Kennedy Center. That’s because it is about Black folks and their place in America, and it does not show that they are treated as well as others, and have equal success rates. The setting is the Paradise Bar, located in the Black Bottom section of Detroit. The year is 1949. Black Bottom is just what it is called – its residents are Black, and many of them are clearly at the Bottom. In fact, Black Bottom is believed by the city leaders to be so bad that the city itself wants to buy out some of the landowners and redevelop the area into something more upscale.
The Paradise is owned by a guy known as Blue, a trumpet player who inherited the club from his father, who was even a better trumpet player. There is a small combo that plays there and includes Blue, and there is Pumpkin, Blue’s girl, who takes care of the club and of the rooms upstairs that are rented out for $5 per day (except to the band members who get it free as compensation).
Blue’s mother was killed by Blue’s father after his father had gone mad; he spent the rest of his life in an asylum. Blue is showing similar mental problems, and wants to escape the Paradise and Detroit, thinking that he can get a fresh start in Chicago. Pumpkin wants to stay where she is, the city she has always lived in.
P-sam, the band’s percussionist (I am simplifying the story line a bit) wants to buy the Paradise from Blue in order to keep the city from changing the neighborhood. So does Silver, a sophisticated “woman without a man” who has sauntered into town from Louisiana (where she might have killed her husband) and rented a room from Blue.
The story plays out in two acts. I won’t tell you any more, except about the plot, except I will remind you that if you see a gun in the first act, it will be used before the play ends. And the same can be said about a bright red rayon dress.
This is a very good play, bringing up a lot about neighborhood “gentrification”, the problems of being a “Negro” even in prosperous Detroit in 1979, and about not only white dominance, but male dominance. The Blacks are trying to hold off the whites, and the women are trying to outsmart the men.
So what, you ask, is different? What is different is that the Studio has taken all the chairs out of one of its main theaters, and turned the entire place (now looking more like a large black box theater) into a cabaret, a club, the Paradise, complete with live music. There are 30 or so tables, each seating two or four people, the bar is open, and the actors roam the floor of the club, coming within inches of many, if not most, of the patrons. Your instructions are not to stick your feet out, not to touch the cast members and not to talk with them. They are not going to break character. (There is, in one corner of the theater a raised platform holding the room Silver is renting, with a boundary curtain closed when the room is not being used in the show.)

It is like being a part of the show, but not quite. As Edie said, we are in the cast; we are playing “audience”. But really, we aren’t in the cast; we are just sitting at tables, as the show goes on around us. It is great fun, no doubt about that, but does it add anything to the play to do it this way? I don’t think it does, and in fact think that more traditional direction might wind up with better showing off the writing. The main reason is that while the majority of the show does take place in the club in which we are sitting, no part of the show takes place in the club during an actual show, when there would be an actual audience. So our being part of the audience in the actual club is artificial; it makes no theatrical sense. Just as a contrast, we have been to at least one show where we were similarly part of the audience, but also had a role to play in the show. It was years ago (like most things we have done) in a black box performance of Julius Caesar in Stratford-upon-Avon, where our role was to play the citizens of Rome. It was very effective as we moved across the large stage as the scenes changed.
But, as I said, this is a good play. It’s part of a three play trilogy by Morisseau, called the Detroit Plays. Studio, in 2017, put on one of the others, Swing Shift, in a more traditional way. I remember seeing that and, at the time, thinking that this was an extraordinary play. Because I thought that Paradise Blue was a really good play, but not an extraordinary one like Swing Shift, I couldn’t help but wonder if a traditional presentation would have made it seem to me to be extraordinary, as well.
The acting was universally good – this was not one of those plays where the actor you remember most is the one who was not up to par. They were all well over par. (Don’t think golf where over par is bad; I guess that is obvious.)
Special shout out to Kalen Robinson, who plays Pumpkin. She was spectacular from her acting, her facial expressions, and her singing voice. But this it not to take from anyone else.
I am sure I am not the only one, but Morisseau’s Detroit Plays remind me 100% of August Wilson’s Pittsburgh Cycle, consisting of 10 plays, each set in a different decade. We have seen most of Wilson’s cycle and all are perfect (okay, some more perfect than others). Does Morisseau’s Detroit Plays compete with or complement Wilson’s Pittsburgh Cycle. I think so. As I remember my reaction to Swing Shift, I would conclude they are brothers from different mothers, as they say. I don’t know if I think that Paradise Blue reaches that level or not, and part of my ambiguity is that the club setting takes some of your attention away from the play itself. I’d like to see it more traditionally. Then perhaps I could answer my question better.
One last thing. From our table, we could see probably two thirds of the audience, and because you were constantly looking in different directions as the actors moved from place to place, you also got to see the audience differently from when all you see are the backs of their heads. And I will say that it was fascinating to see how some people were paying strict attention to everything going on, while others didn’t seem to know where they were or why they were there. And one prominent table had a woman who spent most of the play looking sad as she tried for an hour to adjust her hearing aids. From the actors perspective, rather than looking over the heads of and ignoring a darkened audience out in front of you, wandering through this one with full lights on, they must be able to see the same things I was seeing. I just wonder if it was at all disconcerting. Certainly, that was not obvious if it was disconcerting, but I have to wonder.
Do I recommend you see it (it’s about half through its run, and will keep being performed until early July)? Absolutely. Why?, you ask. Jeez. Didn’t you read what I have said?

































