Theater
'A Lesson Before Dying': Power and Pedantry
Shane Taylor, left, and KenYatta Rogers in "A Lesson Before Dying," an adaptation of the Ernest J. Gaines novel.
(Photos By Danisha Crosby -- Round House Theatre)
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Thursday, September 27, 2007
Two mighty tall walls confine the characters in Round House Theatre's "A Lesson Before Dying" -- walls of injustice, walls of despair.
The cathedral scale of set designer Tony Cisek's whitewashed brick walls contributes to the sermonizing tone of this alternately gripping and pedantic show. With its high-minded dialogues and lone entrance upstage center where those angled walls don't quite come to a point, the show feels ceremonial, almost classically Greek.
But director Timothy Douglas might not have had a better way to go, because this stage adaptation by Romulus Linney is less supple than the best-selling novel by Ernest J. Gaines that it's based on. The book had quiet power. The play, while often splendidly acted, is stiff with dignity.
The story, for folks who missed the HBO movie or Oprah's book club (or maybe high school), is a cross between Gaines's "The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman" and Sister Helen Prejean's "Dead Man Walking." It's 1948 Louisiana, and an innocent, ignorant young black man named Jefferson has just been railroaded toward the electric chair for a murder he didn't commit.
Jefferson doesn't understand much, except that his own attorney called him a hog. (That was the lawyer's demeaning attempt to save him from the death penalty.)
But Jefferson's aging godmother recruits the local teacher, Grant Wiggins, to change the significance and tone, if not the grim outcome, of these final days. In the novel, Wiggins narrates the tale and gradually learns as much about living as Jefferson does. The stage version isn't narrated, but the character's frustration and slow insight burn like a fuse in KenYatta Rogers's tense, vivid performance.
Wiggins feels as trapped as Jefferson, penned in by high expectations (he's been sent to college and it's time to give back) and low options (the best job he can get is at the woefully underfunded grade school). His engine revs hot; he aches to leave the entire region, and Rogers keeps the character's anxiety just in check but right where you can feel it.
Stripped of the 1993 novel's first-person narration, Linney's adaptation sometimes puts more words in the mouths of characters than really fit. Jefferson, in particular, loses naivete in translation. And as Shane Taylor portrays Jefferson, the character's aggressiveness in the early scenes almost suggests the fire and purpose of a humiliated leader rather than a terrified country kid.
Still, the raw power of the situation makes its claims, especially as mental barriers start falling and characters make hard changes. Here, Taylor delivers some heartbreaking moments -- tremblingly recounting the crime, for example, and standing dead still as a lovely woman approaches to kiss his cheek.
The woman is Wiggins's gal, Vivian; she is played with deep sympathy and composure by Rachel Leslie. Ditto Beverly A. Cosham as the godmother, who sets the story in motion by dint of sheer moral authority. Doug Brown neatly averts caricature as the local reverend, bringing freshness and sincerity to his Sunday morning cadences as he urges the secularist Wiggins to think twice about God.
They all have lessons to impart -- even the intimidating white sheriff (Lawrence Redmond) and gentle young deputy (Jeremy J. Brown) do some learning. And Douglas's still, calm staging conveys profound respect that the audience is compelled to share, particularly with news of the Jena 6 and Little Rock 9 in mind. Genuine engagement, though, is intermittent, even given such all-around smart acting and Rogers's impressively fluid, taut work.
Tearful sniffles easily outnumbered the snores at Monday's opening, but "Lesson" is one of those well-done, virtuous shows that inspire both.
A Lesson Before Dying, by Romulus Linney, based on the novel by Ernest J. Gaines. Directed by Timothy Douglas. Costumes, Bill Black; lights, Dan Covey; sound design, Jonathan R. Herter. About 2 hours 15 minutes. Through Oct. 14 at Round House Theatre, 4545 East West Hwy., Bethesda. Call 240-644-1100 or visit http:/


