To borrow from the world of sports, the Milwaukee Repertory Theater hits a home run with its end-of-season production of Fences. One can’t really say that Artistic Director Mark Clements has saved the best for last, because most of MRT’s productions this season have been very strong. The musical Dreamgirls and Of Mice and Men immediately spring to mind as representing some of Milwaukee’s best theater. And although Clements didn’t direct Fences, he certainly left the job in good hands. Lou Bellamy, who founded and was artistic director of the Penumbra Theater Company in St. Paul, Minn., is this show’s director. Bellamy worked extensively with playwright August Wilson early in his career. In fact, Bellamy was the first person to play Troy, the protagonist in Fences. Under Bellamy’s expert guidance, an exceptionally strong group of actors creates a production that will be remembered long after the calendar turns to another year. One of the most-remembered scenes undoubtedly will involve Kim Staunton as Rose, Troy’s wife of 18 years. Steady and upbeat, she has kept the sometimes violent, always bitter Troy (David Alan Anderson) on track. She does what she can to ease his pain, often through the delicious food that comes out of her kitchen or a soft kiss on his bald head.
In the first act, we see an easygoing, fun-loving Rose. She jokes with her husband and his friend Bono on their front porch. Both Troy and Bono are still wearing their outfits as sanitation workers. Later, Rose even finds contentment in as mundane a household hanging wash on a clothes line. While doing so, she hums a favorite hymn.
However, when a startling piece of news in Act II threatens to destroy their marriage, even the tall, muscular Troy is taken aback by Rose’s fury. She unleashes a diatribe that lets Troy know that he isn’t the only one with dashed dreams. She reminds him that she faithfully hitched her star to his wagon when they married. Although this meant giving up her own dreams, not to mention a piece of her identity, she accepted the comfort and security of marriage as a small reward for her sacrifice.
Playwright August Wilson, to his credit, has given women a voice through Rose’s character. When her husband admits to his folly, she never wavers in telling him exactly what is on her mind.
For his part, Troy is hardly a sympathetic character. Left to mainly raise himself as a child, he leaves home at 14. He finds a place in baseball’s Negro Leagues, rising to star status in the days before “professional baseball” allowed blacks to play on their teams. Troy, now 53, agrees with his friends who say he was “born too early,” before Jackie Robinson and Hank Aaron broke baseball’s race barrier.
The injustice Troy feels hasn’t softened over the years. It pervades every aspect of his life, even poisoning the relationships closest to him. Troy has two sons. One of them, Lyons (James T. Alfred), is the product of a previous relationship. Troy and Rose also have a son together, Cory (Edgar Sanchez). Troy is not afraid to belittle his sons, especially Lyons, a 34-year-old musician who sometimes needs a loan to make ends meet. Troy feels justified in his actions as a way to “toughen up” his kids, so they can survive in an unjust world. Troy fails to see how his anger, violent temperament and bitterness can only lead to isolation and disaster.
The only relationship that remains unscathed by Troy’s truculence is with his brain-damaged brother, Gabriel (Terry Bellamy), who was injured by shrapnel in World War II. The appropriately named Gabriel is always seen carrying an old bugle. He has hallucinations about seeing biblical characters in both heaven and hell. Troy demonstrates tolerance – and even kindness – towards his brother.
The setting for Fences is the front of Troy and Rose’s house. Some of the action takes place in the kitchen, behind a slamming screen door. Most of it is played out on the house’s front porch or in the yard. The characters make references to the upstairs bedrooms, which are barely visible due to the wide-open windows. (It’s obvious the home doesn’t have air conditioning, as was the case with most homes in the time period.) The brown brick house is flanked by a dead tree on one end, to lend the sepia-toned set a sense of the past. Lovely, warm-colored lighting enhances the effect. Meanwhile, a constant soundtrack of chirping birds and traffic noises remind audiences that this play is set in the outskirts of a city.
Actor David Alan Anderson delivers a Troy who is not only believable, but also one who is nicely balanced. While Troy’s cringe-worthy behavior will no doubt offend some theatergoers, Anderson also demonstrates some of Troy’s strengths, such as his strong sense of responsibility. He goes to a dead-end job every day to provide for his family. And he has a warm, satisfying relationship with his friend Bono (Marcus Naylor), who he met many years ago while both were serving time in prison.
The play’s title comes from Troy’s on-and-off home construction project. He is building a fence at Rose’s request, but says he doesn’t really see the purpose of it. As Bono tells him, “some fences are for keeping things out, and others are for keeping things in.” Perhaps Rose already has an intuitive sense about her husband’s frequent disappearances, or perhaps she yearns for a fence to keep her family together. As it turns out, the completed fence achieves neither of these goals.
The play ends with another memorable scene, this time between an adult Cory and a young girl. The girl is his sister Raynell (Makayla Davis for most performances). She has no memory of her older brother. Cory, wearing a Marine officer’s dress uniform, looks particularly out of place in the dusty, dingy front yard of his family home.
Cory and Raynell eye each other warily. Finally, during a lull in the family’s activities, Cory and Raynell begin to sing one of their father’s favorite songs. Wilson’s point may be that Troy’s song, which he learned from his own father as a child, lives on for another generation.
With casting and production elements at their peak, it would be a tragedy to let Fences slip by without full houses at every performance.
