REVIEW: The Sensational Sea Mink-ettes (Woolly Mammoth)

It was Confucius who once said, “Foolish is the one who enters a Woolly Mammoth production with expectations.”* Of the Big Six DC equity houses, they’re by far the weirdest, a niche they own up to and consistently deliver on. These days, their approaches seem to be more understated (such as the ambitious slog that was Public Obscenities) in that they aren’t as loud or reflective as, say, seven methods last season, but still a unique story to tell. Hence, when details began to emerge about The Sensational Sea Mink-ettes by Virginian playwright Vivian J.O. Barnes (in her full-production debut), I had my skepticism: is this really just a show about an HBCU step team on the eve of the big homecoming show? Add Taylor Reynolds, the director of the wickedly enjoyable Fat Ham at Studio from this season, and you’ve got my interest.

*sources cannot confirm if he said this or not

Book

What is instantly apparent is Barnes’ propensity for buzzy, mile-a-minute dialogue. Each member of the Sea Mink-ettes are realized with vivid, consistent verbiage, an absolute achievement given this is just a 90-minute one-act. Colorful personalities drive motivations and develop engaging backstories within the opening minutes. Facets of the oft-monolithed Black female experience are spread carefully across the six dancers, creating nuanced, believable relationships that effectively create the dynamic of a team with little to no effort. The plot, as mentioned, follows the titular mammalians through the practices leading up to their homecoming step show. Shantee is their headstrong leader, enforcing the hard-knocks of the routine for her teammates: the academically-focused former leader Maya, the spiritually Beyonce-aligned Kiera, the hilariously raunchy duo of Racquel and Gabby, and the bright-eyed-and-bushy-tailed legacy Mink-ette freshman Aleyse. The conflicts that erupt from the increasing stress of the event feel natural, if not predictable, and are accented by an ever-deteriorating training ground. The final third is where things get…interesting. As the set falls further apart, psyches split, ultimately swallowing several characters into a sort of purgatory where feelings are unearthed and pressures are decompressed. It’s also at this point where the consistency that hits so well in the early parts begins to unravel, sometimes feeling like it prefers being different or strange over coherence. This culminates in a very disappointingly unfulfilled ending, by far its weakest element. Yet, Barnes’ excellence as a writer proves itself in her dialogue and this smashing debut production is hopefully the first step in a long career of excellent works. 8/10

Acting

Anchored by DC’s brilliant Billie Krishawn (recently nominated for a 2023 Helen Hayes award for her work in Angels), the ensemble is incredible. The brilliant, bouncy choreography by Ashleigh King has its best possible vehicles in its actors, who encompass each dancer splendidly; particularly impressive was Lauren Fraites’ (Aleyse) ability to dance exactly two steps off-beat as needed (just one example of the pinpoint direction by Reynolds.) The chemistry of Kalen Robinson and Khalia Muhammad (Racquel and Gabby, aforementioned) is also something to single out, because they are an unstoppable force. Their crass, confident, and collected presences are utterly scene-stealing. Fraites — as well as Sabrina Sawyer (Kiera) and Kimberly Dodson (Maya) — remain grounded with more leveled performances, showcasing the rawer side of what it means to be a Sea Mink-ette. There’s never a point where the excitement leaves the stage, because some character will always give you something to chew on. 9/10

Production

One of the few missteps on Reynolds’ part, I feel, was underuse of Paige Hathaway’s set design talents. There’s an initial awe with the massive bleachers occupying the entire stage, flanked by floodlights and barriered from the audience by a patch of turf, but it gets stale as you realize that is mostly the extent of it. (Luckily you don’t get bored due to the electric acting.) The lighting by Minjoo Kim does work noticeably better, especially as things get different later on, but even in the scenes in purgatory I felt were darkened beyond reason to the point that there may as well been none. I’d love to specifically praise the costuming; Danielle Preston’s immaculate dressing was arguably a better story aid than anything else. The variety of the workout clothes each character wore was a hit-after-hit of colors, patterns, and textures that terrifically reflected the characters’ personalities. Hell, I wanted to wear some of those fits myself! I feel like it’s rare that costuming makes itself that noticeable, much less that attractive, so it being one of the first things I noticed deserves praise. 6/10

Viz

You walk into the theater to blaring, bombastic rap by (female!) artists; if Megan Thee Stallion doesn’t get you hyped for an HBCU dance show, I’m not sure what will. Coupled with the imposing bleachers, it’s like you’re a student there ready to watch the actual Sea Mink-ettes. The program is more formal, showcasing the cast (including the understudies, who both are current students at Howard) donned in a satin yellow jumpsuit as if for a yearbook photo. 10/10

Verdict

Everybody give a warm welcome to Vivian J.O. Barnes, whose hilarious debut production of Sea Mink-ettes is expertly acted and doesn’t fall through its technical cracks. 33/40