In theatrical combat, a scene of comic violence occurring in a dramatic context is called a "Moliere-and-Curly" fight. By that definition, Danai Gurira has written a Moliere-and-Curly play, its family squabbles transpiring within a Minnesota community on the eve of their daughter's wedding to a WASP missionary. Ah, but this time, the bride's relations are African immigrants, from Zimbabwe, and when was the last time you saw the words "African" and "comedy" in the same sentence? What may surprise North American playgoers to Familiar is the similarity between the troubles of these new emigres to those of earlier foreign migrants arriving in the United States. The details of the suffering spurring their flight to friendlier shores, and of the proud traditions they vow retain, may differ from those of their predecessors, but the solution to the contradictions of the old and new—beginning with the snowy midwestern winters—still lies in finding a middle ground retaining the best of both cultures. Lazy theatergoers prone to intellectual whiplash when confronted with abrupt changes in mood (as when the groom's brother administers first aid for hypothermia to the bride's sister, to the astonishment of the relatives and titillation of the audience) may have trouble following the progress of Gurira's complex narrative, but nobody can deny the golden opportunity of seeing Chicago icons Ora Jones, Jacqueline Williams, and Cheryl Lynn Bruce on stage at the same time.
