Black Boys: a trio of talents tackle a multitude of crucial conflicts
by Drew Rowsome - Photos by Jeremy Mimnagh
Theatre can be a magical playground where costumes, lights and sleight of hand produce effects and emotions that transcend words. And it can be a place to gnaw on uncomfortable truths and present them for discussion. Or it can be a place to entertain, strut prodigious talents and dazzle. Black Boys attempts to do all of the above and more.
Three exceptional performers - Stephen Jackman-Torkoff (Botticelli in the Fire & Sunday in Sodom), Tawiah Ben-Eben M'Carthy and Thomas Olajide - formed the core of the Saga Collectif to "confront issues of race, sexuality and gender through a complex and passionate exploration of Blackness and masculinity." There are transcendent moments where the ideas explode and lodge in the audience's soul. Jackman-Torkoff struggles in silhouette on a staircase over which is projected fidgety feet while the despair of not having historical footprints to follow is narrated; Olajide's magnificent torso and face are subjected to the male gaze to illustrate beauty, sex appeal and fetishization; M'Carthy's proud heritage evolves into a joyous dance.
The fear of "darkness" is a literal and a metaphorical symbol that Jackman-Torkoff whirls into a heady if unsteady mix of poetry, spoken word and rap. He references James Baldwin and James Joyce and boldly flings himself into a mash-up of the two. Olajide charms with coming out revelations that are universal. M'Carthy leads a musical gospel chorus that morphs into a chant of "Where's my faggots at?" But in between there is filler choreography and the three, while supportive and admiring of each other, never mesh into an ensemble.
A few scenes in, the action switches to a debate among the three, what seems to be a recreation of the workshop process. Each of the three has been revealing personal details, their wildly divergent history, their wildly divergent experience of Blackness and of gayness. It is a telling moment, stripped of theatricality but pulsing with emotion, as they bicker and battle for the right to express their truth, their individual artistry. The ideas are important, the conflict is genuine, and the point that even within marginalized groups there is a vast array of experiences is necessary, but it is all presented raw without the referenced artistry to make it take flight.
Race, sexuality and gender are such complicated and volatile subjects that Black Boys seethes with potential. Specifics are riveting but some issues - and Black Boys is determined to tackle as much as possible - like Black Lives Matter and Pride are tossed out, discussed and then tossed aside. It is too much to expect resolution or solutions, but transformation into theatricality would make crucial dialogues feel less like crammed-in afterthoughts.
Each of the Black Boys is compelling, able to use voice and presence to hold the audience spellbound. They are powerhouses, which they acknowledge in a final joke/boast that, if the entirety had been more cohesive, should have been as cathartic as a middle finger to a vanquished oppressor. As a workshop and presentation of ideas, Black Boys is stellar. With a bit more focus and faith in their abilities and exuberance, it will blossom into a theatrical experience that will deliver the "spiritual experience" promised.
Black Boys runs until Sun, Dec 11 at Buddies in Bad Times Theatre, 12 Alexander St. buddiesinbadtime