“Amen” means “so be it” and in a corner of a small Harlem church where Margaret is pastor, members enthusiastically say and even sing the word. Elders soon indicate, though, they may not believe “amen” about her or her fitness to lead them. What will this mean for the church and for Margaret’s religious and secular life? Although James Baldwin came out with his script in 1954 and some is dated, its above-mentioned questioning still obtains in an even more secularized world. It’s particularized to African American experience by the introduction of their music, astutely interjected by director Chuck Smith and beautifully performed by the congregation and pianist Elaine Mayo. The plot pivots on Pastor Margaret (commanding Syreeta Banks) preaching and believing the need to commit to religious life above everything else, eschewing anything secular. Elders challenge her because they think she’s lives in relative luxury (represented by a new Frigidaire) and has been deserted—maybe from selfishness— by her husband Luke. Besides, they think her son isn’t enough devoted to the church, to which he might be giving more of his talent as a pianist, since she’s had him getting a musical education for this reason. When Luke shows up deathly sick and son David spends more time playing music and living it up with pals, Margaret’s past and present domestic problems are united. At the church, she grapples with young Ida, a mother Margaret told to go to her husband, find out the reason for her baby’s sickness and try for another. When the baby’s dead, so is Ida’s faith in Margaret’s faith. The elders begin a campaign against Margaret, David splits, and there’s a revelatory meeting between her and dying Luke. Director Chuck Smith deftly keeps suspense high regarding final changes or lack of them, despite Baldwin’s too many repetitions and a prolonged conclusion. Smith gets fine performances from all. Patric Robinson and Ariel Blue rightly make the Boxers reprehensible, and Sieglinda Fox skillfully backs them up. Yve Lyles as Margaret’s sister Odessa proves a potent match for them. As parishioners, Lonnetta Gains, Jai Shanae, Brentney J, and Carvas Pickens contribute to the welcome music, led by Michael Kinsey. Joel P. E. King handles tolerably the melodrama of Luke’s situation and appears wise in his conversations with son David. Brian L. Boyd essays David clearly and directly as usual at WBTT. He navigates well the path between being disrespectful of his mother’s aspirations for him and having to be true to himself and his heritage. Interactions of husband and son with Margaret are relevant to such experiences of people of every race and social and economic status. Michael Newton-Brown’s two-tiered set is both well appointed and utilitarian. Costumes by Michael Alan Stein fit the characters’ situations and personalities, the latter enhanced by Travis McCue’s wigs. There were no problems with sight lines, lighting, and sound in a crowded theater. Despite being rather long, the play kept the appreciative attention of almost all of the sell-out audience I was a part of.
