TAKE A TRIP DOWN THIS RABBIT HOLE

Coping with familial grief has long been fertile ground for theatre, from Rabbit Hole to Hamlet to Antigone, performed almost 2500 years ago at the birth of the art form. The 43rd season opener for Lifeline Theatre, Rabbits in Their Pockets—directed with an eye for character detail and ensemble spark by Christopher Wayland—is a new entry in the canon. Even by theatrical standards, Lifeline’s productions are excessively literary, their mission is to develop original productions based on literature. This particular world premiere, though, comes with a twist. Rather than choose a classic text, Kimberly Dixon-Mays has chosen to draw from the oldest form of performance there is, the oral storytelling tradition, using as inspiration, the Brer Rabbit stories by Uncle Remus.

Simmery Branch (Harley) and LaKecia Harris (Ash)

A comforting aroma of cut lumber emanates from Shokie Tseumah’s simple but evocative set: a workshop and house, fronted with a sidewalk cafe; this along with the old brick walls of the theatre, and the piped in blues music, give the entire place a pleasantly familial air, apropos to the events that will follow.

A year after the death of their father, sisters Harley and Ash, reunite for practical reasons. Harley wants to rehab their old house and sell it to fund a performing arts center; one that will focus on reclaiming improvisation as the original African-American art form. Ash, returning to the homestead after leaving the city to be an aeronautical engineer, is understandably skeptical but will pitch in. She has her own grief issues and begins to fixate on turning the house into a smart house, and not just any smart house, but once that can detect, store, and redistribute joy; more specifically, black joy.

Lakecia Harris (Ash) and Simmery Branch (Harley), both excellent, have such natural sororal chemistry that I knew they were sisters before they even spoke. Their battles ring true, as do their coping mechanisms. A lovely—if slightly shoehorned—recitation of Milne’s “Cherry Stones” provides the play with its title; that beloved children’s poem about the possibilities awaiting every child takes on new resonance when framed by grief. Ash and Harley are cast adrift, reacting to the emotional wilderness in strikingly different ways: the structured, practical Ash clings to the secure, unambiguous demands of her work, ignoring the racism and sexism she faces, while the more imaginative Harley is swept into increasingly fanciful artistic expression. What they both are, is lost.

Comic relief comes in the form of Jasper, a business executive and family friend taking classes in improvisation from Harley. As played by Marcus D. Moore, he is—to use a word I usually loathe—adorable. With what must be some sort of record, less than ten seconds into his appearance, with his little muttered growl, he firmly establishes himself as the audience favorite, and all his appearances were met with appreciative laughter, particularly when he interrupts the more intense arguments.

While Br’er Rabbit and Br’er Fox enter the narrative early through a conversation between Harley and Jasper, the oral tradition of African-American folklore truly comes alive in the character of Mz. Inola—a suspiciously chipper investor, played with delightful archness by Felisha McNeal.

Marcus D. Moore (Jasper), Simmery Branch (Harley), and Felicia McNeal (Inola)

The trickster is a major archetype in African and African-American lore: Br’er Rabbit, Anansi the Spider, Ijaba the Tortoise—immortalized by Aesop in “The Tortoise & The Hare”—and more. They are cunning, clever, and irreverent, using their wits to outwit and outfox bigger, faster, and stronger opponents. In Charles Burnett’s under-watched 1990 masterpiece, “To Sleep with Anger”, the trickster, played by Danny Glover, is as an instrument of disharmony and strife, almost destroying the family who lets him in. Kimberly Dixon-Mays smartly subverts this trope by creating a trickster who, by sowing discord, brings the two sisters together.

Their grief is still raw but now they can cope with it together.

And no one needed to be thrown into a briar patch.

photos by Josh Bernaski

Rabbits in Their Pockets
Lifeline Theatre, 6912 N. Glenwood Ave.
90 minutes
Fri at 7:30; Sat at 2:30 & 7:30; Sun at 2:30
for tickets ($25-$45), call 773.761.4477 or visit Lifeline

for more shows, visit Theatre in Chicago