REVIEW: Fat Ham (Studio Theatre)
Preview: Alas poor Hamlet, we knew ye well. As common as it is to riff on the Bard’s Danish tragedy, be it with animated lions or otherwise, they never seem to have anything that new to bring to the table. Luckily for us we have James Ijames, and what he brings to the table is a complete meal of ribs, cornbread, and passionate satire of suburban Blackness in the form of his Pulitzer-winning Fat Ham, playing now at Studio Theatre. Delish.
Book: Self-aware to just the right amount, Ijames captures all of the storytelling prowess Shakespeare is known for but threads a needle in making it recognizable AND wholeheartedly unique. The competition and familial dramas that can innately bloom from cookouts lends itself so well to the premise of Hamlet that I think it sets a bar for the production of Shakespeare works for me; take some liberties, guys! Of course, it is not 100% word-for-word Hamlet, and as such Ijames places great care into crafting each character with sublime personality that not one is underwritten (granted, I saw family members of mine in each one, so perhaps I’m just personally filling in the gaps). Juicy, the protagonist, is a gloomy queer man in online college still grappling with the death of his father Pap, the relationship being acrimonious at best now with no chance at redemption. Souring his mood further is the notion that the cookout in question is in honor of his mother marrying Pap’s brother, Rev, whom is accused of by Pap’s ghost as the orchestrator behind his demise. The plan? Kill Rev, of course; in fact, butcher him like a pig. Such is set in motion and meddled with in various ways by the hilarious rotating cast of cousins and family friends. Interspersed within this fever dream are Brechtian asides and soliloquys that just barely shake the pacing of the one-act play, but not enough to derail it entirely. In often uses these fourth-wall-breaking segues to shift tones into some of its stronger arcs, including its further exploration of queerness and purpose. I don’t think I’ll spoil anything here, but by the end, they certainly were serving at the cookout. 10/10
Acting: Marquis D. Gibson’s Juicy is a good, neutral protagonist, but his lack of energy as a character limits his abilities compared to the open fervor of those around him. Tedra (Tanesha Gray) is loud, proud, and aloof, but is grounded enough to show care for Juicy’s plights, even if actively working against him. Rev and Pap are played by Greg Alverez Reid with the wry, hyper-masculine toxicity, which at the same time had me hooked with its villainy. Two of the most unexpectedly enjoyable performances come from Gaelyn D. Smith and Thomas Walter Booker as Opal and Tio, respectively, both so checked-out of the commotion that it is pure absurdity; thanks to Booker’s performance, gingerbread cookies are going to seem a lot less appetizing this Christmas. Smith likewise is delightfully snappy and volatile, which counters the couth fragility found elsewhere in the latter half of the piece. I’d really like to see them in future DC shows! The most subdued performance was also among its more profound and least comedic in Matthew Elijah Webb’s Larry, the family friend who is also an active Marine. His evolution over the show is an absolute highlight, and one that I can’t quite spoil, but provides the launch pad for further nuances within the greater characterization of the show. 8/10
Production: Jean Kim’s vibrant backyard patio of a set is something straight out of Largo, which sets things up so well for me who grew up spending a lot of time at cookouts just like this in PG. That’s just the start, as director Taylor Reynold’s production is great all around, from Danielle Preston’s increasingly verbose costuming to Minjoo Kim’s pops of light that compliment the space. 8/10
VisDev: From when you walk in, you’ve entered the cookout. Studio’s Mead Theatre is small. I was front row and felt like I’d trip someone too easily, but proximity to the grass made the suspension of disbelief that much easier. Marketing, and by extension the program art, needs some work I feel. It’s merely a crown overlaid on a saturated, Miami-sunrise colored background. The crown may evoke Hamlet, but like we’ve seen, this is much more than just that. 5/10
VERDICT: Fat Ham is a raucous delight that serves up a creatively cunning book with performances to match.
