When the 2015 Pulitzer Prize was awarded to Stephen Adly Guirgis's wry examination of marginalized citizens struggling to get by—and not particularly choosy how they do it—against overwhelming odds, nobody suspected that the troubles of these disenfranchised lowlifes would be vying for national attention a year later. Don't come expecting cheap ripped-from-the-headlines hindsight, though. Keep your fists at your sides and hankies in your pockets, and you will emerge wiser. The major trouble revolves around Walter Washington, a policeman before his career was abruptly curtailed by injuries sustained in an after-hours bar shooting. Since the shooter was another policeman and the gunfire accompanied by racial epithets—Walter is African-American, by the way—rather than accept a settlement, the 30-year NYPD veteran sued the city. Eight years later, the case is still pending, but Walter's anger remains unabated, its corrosive influence evidenced in the deterioration of the Washington family apartment into a refuge for son Junior's ill-starred business ventures and itinerant acquaintances (who call Walter "Dad" and drift in and out of the household like so many stray cats). Walter's former colleagues advise him to put an end to the attrition, but only after a visit from a church volunteer—who may not be what she appears—is the proud old man finally stirred to action. It takes a while for us to consider that everybody in Between Riverside and Crazy might not be what they appear, because characters who say things like "if it weren't for your being totally wrong, you'd probably be right" were, until recently, dismissed by urban audiences as buffoons afflicted with the compulsive loquacity engendered by a diet of whiskey, junk food, and rooftop reefer. Racism within the ranks of our constabulary is no longer funny, however, nor is the hardscrabble economy of a working class seeing their security erode under unchecked bureaucracy and injustice. Recognizing this, director Yasen Peyankov has instructed his cast to take the high road, endowing each character's every utterance with empathy and the unlikeliest of plot twists—even a detour into Magic Realism—with plausibility. In a universe governed by chaos, anything is possible. Eamonn Walker's Walter commands Collette Pollard's comfortably cluttered stage with patriarchal presence, while the supporting performances are everything we have come to expect of the Steppenwolf ensemble, Special mention is due Lily Mojekwu, however, whose portrayal of the mysterious Brazilian-born vodou sorceress posing as a "Church Lady" holds us spellbound from the first exotic syllable (courtesy of dialect consultant Tanera Marshall).
