Clybourne Park

Racial issues and real estate don’t so much collide in MTC’s production Clybourne Park as volcanically shatter and the smouldering debris will linger in your mind long after you’ve exited the theatre.

After enjoying some successful stints in both London and New York, this Pulitzer Prize-winning play by Bruce Norris finally makes its first trip to Australia with Peter Evans at the director’s helm. If tonight’s four rapturous curtain calls are anything to go by, this show certainly has a very bright future down under. However, any theatregoers expecting To Kill a Mockingbird: The Show! might be in for a bit of a rude shock.

We begin in Chicago, 1959. Married couple Bev and Russ are seeking to escape their haunted woes (don’t worry, you’ll find out) by selling their house at Clybourne Park to a black family. All that stands in the way of what should be a smooth transition are the vicar, Jim, and their neighbour, Karl, with the latter being part of the Community Association. With their African-American maid Francine watching on, any concern for “Love thy neighbour” quickly goes out the window as tensions begin to escalate and deep-seeded prejudices fizz to the surface. In essence, this play is a hotbed of community and racial conflict with undercurrents of primal territorialism that combine to pack a truly powerful punch. Although the story takes a few moments to fully take flight and some of the American accents seem to falter early on, when the play finally kicks into gear, prepare to strap yourself in because it does not relent in exposing some hard social truths.

All right, that was the 1950’s. Surely we’ve come a long way since those days, right? Wrong! The costumes and decor may change over the interval but as Norris himself points out, throughout the evolution of race relations, we’ve only found ‘a new set of words for talking about similar things.’ The similarities between the two different eras are subtle but nonetheless startling as that old adage ‘the more things change, the more they stay the same’ pulsates throughout a firecracker of a second act. We find ourselves plunged back into the same living room but fifty years later. The year is 2009 and Clybourne Park is now a poorer, predominantly black, suburban area. This time, a white couple seeks to negotiate the renovations and purchase of the historic house with a black couple from the neighbourhood organization. Once again, small misunderstandings explode into a highly emotive and often hilarious second half. Norris’ well-rounded characters serve to not only make us laugh but also reflect upon our own morality and they rarely come across as preachy in the process. These are people who are unable to co-exist in a community because they’ve forgotten what a community should be.

Bruce Norris’ script is really something to behold. It’s not hard to see why it’s won so many awards including an Olivier award and, of course, the coveted Pulitzer Prize. It is simply the mark of a playwright at the top of his craft. We’re talking complex, deeply flawed characters, biting social criticism and some very witty one-liners that you’ll be quoting for days. All of these factors converge into a wonderfully rich social comedy that cuts to the core of racism and seeks to expose many of the things that we, as humans, go to great lengths to avoid discussing. Norris proves to be the master of making audiences squirm and he has an uncanny knack for the cringe-worthy so Clybourne Park is certainly not an comfortable ride. It is a bold vision very eloquently executed. For all of its literary pyrotechnics, it is often what isn’t said in Norris’ work that speaks the loudest as the claustrophobic living room (masterfully designed by Christina Smith and lighting designer Matt Scott) plays host to some seriously dark skeletons in the closet (or perhaps buried in the backyard…)

Evan’s cast have the daunting task of each portraying two different characters from two different eras. Each of them delivers without exception. Greg Stone excels as the embittered Russ in Act 1 who masks an inner torment with a rough, almost Jack Nicholson-esque demeanour. MTC stalwart Alison Whyte is stunning as usual as Russ’ ditsy but well-intentioned wife, Bev, who flits around the room with endless unrest. Laura Gordon can’t help but spark smiles as the deaf and pregnant Betsy before sparking cringes in Act 2 as Steve’s chatterbox girlfriend, Lindsey. Bert Labonte, with a supreme gift for comic timing, gives the role of Kevin both gravitas and humour in equal measure and Zahra Newman brings the house down as Lena, delivering the crudest joke of the show. Special props must also go to Patrick Brammall for tackling (arguably) the show’s two biggest villains, Karl and Steve, two very different characters who both hide sinister motives behind casual smiles. The cast are to be congratulated for maintaining the escalating contour of the play, particularly within the second half, which glides effortlessly on the energy pent up in the slow-burning first Act.

Norris and Evans clearly revel in pulling no punches as they put a mirror up to the audience and dare them to look away from characters that are eerily true to life. The lyrical and poignant epilogue that closes the show effectively dispels the melting pot of flared tempers as the dialogue becomes presented almost directly to the audience. Fortunately we end on an optimistic note as Bev suggests that things are in fact getting better as we start to accept the mistakes of the past and bring all the issues out into the open. Performing a play such as Clybourne Park may very well be the necessary first step in doing just that.