Clyde’s is a slight but highly entertaining play about “a bunch of felons making sandwiches.” The quote is from the lips of Clyde (Tamberla Perry), the woman who runs the eponymous truck stop where the sandwich-making takes place. An ex-felon herself, Clyde likes to employ recently released prisoners, if only because she can lord it over them in cruel and devilish fashion, knowing that they are fearful of being fired and ending up on the street.
The fast-paced action takes place in the truck-stop’s kitchen, which is replete with stoves, fridges, sinks and food shelves. Much of the time the four felons rush about trying to fill the orders Clyde fires at them. As they slice, dice, prepare and garnish the sandwiches, they converse with each other, sometimes bantering and joking, other times arguing and fulminating. Director Kate Whoriskey skillfully choreographs all the cris-crossing, frantic moves, turning the play into a kind of dance, a mad dance of the damned (punctuated by blasts of fiery hip-hop, salsa and rock.)
The four felons slaving away for Clyde are Montrellous (Kevin Kinerly), the eldest of the bunch (and the most thoughtful and spiritual-minded); Letitia (Nedra Snipes), feisty and brassy; Rafael (Reza Salazar), a hot-headed Latino fighting a drug problem; and Jason (Garrett Young), a slobby white guy trying hard to contain his angry demons.
Two issues give Clyde’s its story line. Will Clyde allow Montrellous to put together hand-crafted sandwiches which express his artistic and spiritual side (he’s big on nature and veggies)? Even larger and more important is this question: do the felons have the courage and gumption to escape the hell hole the truck stop represents?
Clyde (whose gaudy and lavish costumes are a hoot) sneers at poor Montrellous, reminding him that the truck-drivers who frequent her cafe hate fancy chow (and would also be unimpressed by the unexpected restaurant review that raved about the foursome’s work). As for them climbing out of this black hole and making a new life for themselves: “You left prison but that doesn’t mean you escaped prison.”
The desire and need for a second chance in life is a universal one, Clyde’s reminds us, with much flair, urgency and compassion.
