Theater Review: FAT HAM (San Francisco Playhouse)

TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE…AND FUNNY

Now playing at San Francisco Playhouse, Fat Ham is James Ijames’ Pulitzer Prize-winning and Tony-nominated riff on Hamlet—but this is no brooding royal revenge tale. Instead, it’s a vibrant, funny, and deeply human family drama set in a Southern backyard, where barbecue smoke and family secrets hang thick in the air.

Juicy (Devin A. Cunningham)

The play opens with Juicy (Devin A. Cunningham), a soft-spoken, thoughtful young Black man who’s more into philosophy than confrontation. Alongside his weed-loving cousin Tio (Kareem Jenkins), Juicy is prepping for a cookout when he’s visited by the ghost of his recently deceased father, Pap (Ron Chapman), who was killed in prison. Pap demands vengeance—specifically against his own brother, Rev (also played by Chapman), who is marrying Juicy’s mother just weeks after his death. Sound familiar? That’s the Hamlet echo, but Ijames flips the script. Juicy isn’t a reluctant avenger—he’s actively questioning the entire premise. Cunningham anchors the production with remarkable subtlety. His Juicy doesn’t posture or explode—he feels. With the smallest gesture or glance, Cunningham reveals Juicy’s quiet resistance and growing resolve.

Pap (Ron Chapman)

Rev is crude, domineering, and all too eager to take Pap’s place, while Tedra (Jean Stephens), Juicy’s mother, is caught somewhere between fierce independence and longing for attention. She’s more interested in karaoke than conspiracies, and Stephens plays her with a captivating, comic charisma—equal parts sparkle and chaos. Stephens is magnetic as Tedra, evoking shades of Abbott Elementary‘s Ava with her diva energy and eye-popping outfits, especially when she grabs the mic for a karaoke number that’s half concert, half emotional striptease.

Juicy (Devin A. Cunningham), Larry (Samuel Ademola),
Opal (Courtney Gabrielle Williams) and Rabby (Phaedra Tillery-Boughton)

Guests arrive: Tedra’s best friend Rabby (comic riot Phaedra Tillery-Boughton), a holier-than-thou churchgoer, all judgmental piety and cracked veneers—until her own mask slips in glorious fashion. With Rabby are her children Larry (Sam Ademola), a buttoned-up ex-Marine, and Opal (Courtney Gabrielle Williams), a queer teen forced into a sundress she clearly didn’t choose. The surface party games—charades, karaoke, forced smiles—crack under the pressure of long-held resentments and gender expectations.

Rabby (Phaedra Tillery-Boughton), Larry (Samuel Ademola) and Tedra (Jenn Stephens)

As the day unfolds, Rev’s toxic masculinity comes into full bloom, leading to a heated confrontation that threatens to tip into tragedy. But Ijames resists easy catharsis. Instead, he lets his characters find liberation in truth-telling, in vulnerability, and even in absurdity. There’s an edge of gallows humor here, but also a sincere yearning for a better, freer life.

Juicy (Devin A. Cunningham), Rev (Ron Chapman) and Tio (Jordan Covington)

Margo Hall’s direction gives each character a moment to shine, and the ensemble plays like a family forged in fire—messy, layered, and familiar. Scenic designer Nina Ball’s backyard set is a knockout. Full of homey detail—trees, a grill, a trampoline—it places the audience squarely inside the gathering. It’s cozy, relatable, and the perfect backdrop for a play about what we inherit, what we bury, and what we finally let go.

Opal (Courtney Gabrielle Williams) and Juicy (Devin A. Cunningham)

Though some of the monologues meander and a few transitions feel abrupt, the one-act show delivers a payoff that’s both unexpected and exhilarating. Fat Ham doesn’t ask whether Juicy will avenge his father—it asks whether he has to. And in doing so, it finds a deeply contemporary twist on an old classic: what if the bravest act isn’t revenge, but reinvention?

Rev (Ron Chapman), Rabby (Phaedra Tillery-Boughton) and Tedra (Jenn Stephens)