THE BONES ARE INDEED GOOD,
IF NOT A BIT SKELETAL
The website houseful states, “good bones” refers to the core foundational elements of the home, “…a steady structure that can withstand time, wear, and elements. A home with good bones typically has a sturdy foundation, structural stability, and a strong roof.” The decades old, abandoned, formerly splendid house at the center of Pulitzer Prize winning playwright James Ijames’ latest play Good Bones, currently onstage at The Public Theater, certainly meets those desired requirements.
Mamoudou Athie, Susan Kelechi Watson, and Khris Davis
However, the upscale, young couple who purchase the upscale, older home in an attempt to start fresh in their marriage and professional lives, maybe not so much. The entrance of a handsome young contractor, proud of his blue-collar status and even prouder of the nearby Black project housing where he grew up and still resides, reveals the shaky condition of the marriage, the couple’s self-image and their professional choices. Even with Saheem Ali’s creative and risk-taking direction, the audience, like the main character, may still end the show sitting quietly, gazing into space, contemplating what exactly this sometimes forced mix of story genres is about. And there’s maybe a ghost in the house.
Khris Davis and Mamoudou Athie
The always affluent Travis and his up-by-the-bootstraps wife Aisha, seem to be a perfect (if oddly matched) young, professional, African-American couple. Travis comes from money and has really never had to struggle in life. Aisha, however, basically comes from nothing and had to fight for everything. She is the responsible, grounded, sensible one and he is still trying to find himself. At this latest juncture in their marriage, Aisha’s new job has brought her back to the urban center where she grew up. Aisha works as a project manager/community liaison for large construction enterprises and is currently representing a multi-million sports facility being built in the down-market part of town. Aisha proudly represents this project to the community as she feels it will bring money, jobs and healing to this strife torn section of the city. Healing is an important motivation, as Aisha grew up in these housing projects and despises these neighborhoods, due to the urban decay that engulfed her childhood.
Susan Kelechi Watson and Khris Davis
The metrosexual Travis is a well-trained chef and is opening a soul food restaurant with a twist — using traditional ingredients to create fusion/foodie/upmarket soul inspired dishes. However, the pressures of an expensive home remodel and cross-country move are beginning to wear on the couple.
Susan Kelechi Watson, Téa Guarino, and Khris Davis
Earl, a decidedly not metrosexual contractor, enters to complete the kitchen remodel. There seems to be an instant attraction between the rugged Earl and Aisha, especially once they discover they grew up in the same projects. However, that budding attraction goes out the window once Earl learns that Aisha is working for the sports complex. Earl is vehemently opposed to the project as, to his mind, it is ushering in widespread gentrification and neighborhood displacement. Between Earl, Travis, Carmen (Earl’s charming and self-possessed younger sister who’s a sophomore at Penn) and a fundamental inability to depend on others, Aisha soon finds herself stuck in the middle of some difficult truths. What will she do? Is the sports complex really the “Death Star” as Earl refers to it? And what about that ghost?
Mamoudou Athie and Susan Kelechi Watson
Ijames is clearly an excellent writer and he’s created some original and very intriguing characters. However, there’s a tendency to set up situations in the play that don’t pay off (like the maybe/maybe not ghost). The ghost is symbolic of ghosts of the past (?) and Aisha’s struggle with her own past but the symbolism gets a little murky. At some points, the characters seem less like people and more like viewpoints brought together to argue the effects of neighborhood gentrification, while laying in meta-considerations about gentrification of the psyche. And the last bit seemingly switches to a soap opera-ish exchange between Travis and Aisha about trusting, listening, “being there” for each other, etc. It’s a testament to the strength of Ijames talent that we stay engaged with these characters for the most part even while he veers into multiple story paths (and some over-writing).
Téa Guarino
Performances across the board are excellent, especially from Khris Davis as Earl. Funny, moving, intelligent and sympathetic, Davis charms as a clear-eyed working man unafraid to speak uncompromising truth. Mamoudou Athie is endearing as the anxiety ridden, noise complaining, privileged Travis. Téa Guarino is well-cast as the smart and self-aware college student Carmen. At the center of it all, Susan Kelechi Watson give a layered, powerful, nuanced performance as Aisha. When she sits at the end of the show, quietly gazing out of her French doors contemplating her life, we understand why she’s in that chair.
Susan Kelechi Watson
Maruti Evans delivers another beautiful scenic design with the high-ceiling, under-construction, kitchen set that dominates the stage. The monochromatic grey that literally everything in the kitchen is painted seems to be a spoof on trendy kitchen design as well as a comment on the undertone of muted, grey uncertainty that permeates the lives of Travis and Aisha. Initially covered in large sheets of hanging plastic, director Ali effectively uses the periodic removal of this sheeting to not only reveal the kitchen but also major shifts in the play.
Téa Guarino, Khris Davis, Susan Kelechi Watson, and Mamoudou Athie
Good Bones by James Ijames definitely has some good bones. Though some parts may be slightly over-decorated while others a bit under-designed, it’s a house that deserves a walk through if not a longer visit. Though you might leave wondering what were they thinking with that grey kitchen? And was that really a ghost?
Susan Kelechi Watson and Mamoudou Athie
photos by Joan Marcus
Good Bones
The Public Theater, Martinson Hall, 425 Lafayette Street
ends on October 13, 2024
Tues-Sun at 7:30; Sat & Sun at 1:30
for tickets, call 212.967.7555 or visit The Public
