REVIEW: Jaja’s African Hair Braiding (Arena Stage)

DC theatre is finally waking up from its midyear siesta.

Just this week alone, I’ve got nine (9) shows on the docket. Am I excited? Of course — I’m seldom disappointed by our local scene. But how I plan to sit here and write essays about each one, while also going to work and getting a normal amount of sleep, is a different question.

The good news is that if any in the rest of my gauntlet of shows are half as entertaining as Arena’s season-opening smash Jaja’s African Hair Braiding, then it will be well worth it. This big-hearted play by Jocelyn Bioh comes to Southwest direct from Broadway as part of its regional tour, bringing with it a healthy mix of locals and out-of-towners. Nice nice indeed.

Book

Bioh’s book covers a normal day in the titular salon in Harlem, circa 2019. This slice-of-life approach is stuffed to the limit with lore, a resounding feat that never results in a dull moment for the audience. The comedy is a cross-cultural achievement that is well-stocked with belly laughs. Bea’s tooth-sucking, Miriam’s carb crisis, and Olu’s take-me-back melodrama are all part of a riotous end-product. To cool things off, there’s moments where the characters are allowed to breathe, providing soothing empathy and preventing the antics of the salon from being overbearing. The piece also covertly analyzes the oft-unspoken dynamic of being Black American versus being African (and more broadly, the impact of being Black and an immigrant), but never in a condescending way; the moral of Bioh’s story —especially via its late-stage twist — is one that places community, and its third places such as Jaja’s salon, at the forefront. 8/10

Acting

Keeping the vibes alive are a top-class ensemble of actors. Jordan Rice anchors the group as Jaja’s unguided child Marie, who is in charge of the upkeep of the shop as her mother prepares to be wed and recieve her green card. Around her are an excitable gaggle of braiders: the temp Ndidi (Aisha Sougou), the blissful Miriam (Bisserat Tseggai), the headstrong Bea (Awa Sal Secka), and her right-hand chair Aminata (Tiffany Renee Johnson). Each are uniformly excellent; I would watch an entire multi-season television show with these characters. Even Jaja herself (the stunning Victoire Charles), in her limited stage presence, is performed with such aplomb that satisfies the demand left by her constant pre-mentioning by the others. Even the regular Black American customers are great inclusions to the story of the salon as we watch the cultures clash, meld, and clash again. Colby Muhammad deftly takes over three of them, each visually different but with a similar flavor of exclusion; Melanie Brezill another three, just as astute yet softer; and though Mia Ellis only takes over one, her Jennifer is thoughtful and caring, providing through her naivete a great avenue for learning more about the stylists. Icing on the cake: Yao Dogbe’s hilarious multi-turn as two neighborhood salesmen, Aminata’s husband Olu, and neighborhood sage Eric. 10/10

Production

All hail Nikiya Mathis.

The hair and wig desiger for Jaja’s had the herculean task of making show the trade of hair styling was not only respected, but a character itself. And boy does she deliver: at every turn there’s a new customer that needs something. Box braids. Micro braids. Sew-ins. And each time they are styled with such flair (and speed!) that you wonder what witchcraft they’re capable of in that salon. Theatre magic aside, the hair expounds so much personality that it’s a genuine treat to see what Mathis product would come out next. There’s even more to it: did I mention the Dede Ayite’s costumes are spectacular? Like the hair, each thread and weave speaks to the personality of the character. (Especially Dogbe’s charismatic slew of them.) David Zinn stage expertise is around, too, as the wings rotate into showcase the interior of the salon shortly after the top of the show. But the detail that always got me was Stefania Bulbarella’s video design on the salon’s TVs, which showed kitschy Nollywood clips and Windows Vista-like screensavers as one can expect to see at any immigrant-run salon. 10/10

Viz

The program art features a childlike red background that frames the grinning eyes of an African woman — with appropriately big hair, over which the show’s title is placed. It’s an amazingly effective way to convey the comedy and cultural awareness the piece has. Less is more! Coming with it is the nighttime scene of the shop’s exterior that serves as the scrim. Framing the fluorescent shop is dingy images of hair models, like what you’d find in a cigarette-tinged salon look book. In case the ambience needed some extra oomph, Afrobeats play over the speakers as you find your seat. I can’t think of a better way to get immersed in the world of the salon. 10/10

Verdict

Jaja’s is as about of as good of a time you can have at a theatre. Quippy dialogue, engaging performances, and generationally great hair and costumes will guarantee that you leave with a smile. 38/40