Theatre in Review: This Land Was Made (Vineyard Theatre)

	Matthew Griffin, Antoinette Crowe-Legacy. Photo: Carol Rosegg

"Back home in Louisiana, we like things just the way they are. Predictable. We got our side of town. They got theirs. Long as we stay outta white folks way, things seem to go smoothly. And it works." So says Miss Trish, the plain-spoken Black tavernkeeper in Tori Sampson's new play. As it happens, Trish is fresh out of luck: It is 1967 and, outside her door, on the streets of Oakland, California, history -- tumultuous and sometimes violent -- is surging like a river, upending the city and endangering lives on both sides of the racial divide. Sampson has fashioned a provocative speculative drama, combining fictional characters with historical figures to capture the temper of a city ready to explode with racial tensions and revolutionary fervor.

This Land Was Made is narrated by Sassy, Trish's accurately named daughter, a fireball of enthusiasm and ambition who has landed a contract for her first book, a kind of social history of Oakland's Black community. Because this is the era of the Black Panthers, Sassy is ineluctably drawn to Huey P. Newton, whose talk of a new racial order is gaining momentum around town, especially among young people. But Sassy is involved with Troy, a deliberative, well-spoken, law student who harbors dreams of reaching the Supreme Court. Huey is smooth, seductive, and ultimately ruthless in his intentions. (He tells a cheering crowd, "Black people must now move from the grass roots up through the perfumed circles of the Black bourgeoisie, to seize by any means necessary a proportionate share of the power vested and collected in the structure of America.") Troy is polished, well-spoken, collegiate, a bit like George Murchison, the bourgeoise suitor in A Raisin in the Sun.. In his view, Huey as a wounded narcissist looking for a heroic role to play; the only true change, he insists, comes from working within the system. It's little wonder they get on each other's nerves, their profound philosophical differences spiked by their jealousy over Sassy.

Then again, Troy's self-assurance and obvious intelligence represents an intriguing challenge to Huey. When Troy is beaten up by a gang of white students -- a destabilizing incident that sends the young man reeling -- Huey sees his opening. Troy accepts a dinner invitation with his rival and what happens next sends shock waves through the neighborhood: Sampson ingeniously inserts Troy into a real-life incident, the killing of Officer John Frey, for which Newton was convicted in 1968. (The conviction was reversed two years later, and subsequent trials ended in hung juries.) Huey ends up in hospital, chained to his bed; Troy, his confidence shattered, goes into hiding; cops menacingly invade Trish's bar; and Sassy, who misses nothing, discovers true power in her writing abilities, transforming herself into a canny witness to history.

The fate of young Black men is one of the play's major concerns -- among the collateral damage is Trish's son (and Sassy's brother), killed in Vietnam -- but This Land Was Made leaves plenty of room for Sassy's critical comments about their choices. Indeed, everyone in the play is bristling with opinions, all rendered with maximum conviction in Taylor Reynolds' taut production. Julian Elijah Martinez's Huey is loaded with charisma but, to audiences in the gun-happy America of 2023, his rabble-rousing call to action may seem deeply unsettling. ("The power structure depends upon the use of force within retaliation. This is why they have made it a felony to teach guerrilla warfare. This is why they want the people unarmed.") As Troy, Matthew Griffin pushes back so strongly ("Black people have oppressed ourselves by forcefully rejecting aspects of this society that don't cater to our desires. We've placed a negative stigma on the law and law officials, making it seemingly impossible for any black person to outwardly desire to be a part of it") that his ultimate unraveling becomes even more effective.

Also making strong impressions are Leland Fowler as Drew, furiously insisting that Muhammed Ali "is Jesus for Black folks;" Yasha Jackson as Gail, a cheerful mantrap ("Ms. Trish, can I get a ginger ale while I try to butter up Mr. Far over here"); Ezra Knight as the bar's most loyal customer, a natural grumbler who can be counted on in a crisis; and Libya V. Pugh as Miss Trish, coldly assessing the singing talents of Sassy and Gail as "sounding like two cows giving birth." Presiding authoritatively over the action is Antoinette Crowe-Legacy as Sassy, taking notes even in moments of crisis, furiously denouncing Troy for his perceived cowardice, and, years later, affirming her dedication to her community.

The action unfolds on Wilson Chin's marvelously detailed bar set, a world so fully imagined that one can easily see how it feels like home for the regulars. Adam Honoré fills the space with warm white tones that contrast strongly with the infernal red washes lurking just outside Miss Trish's door. Dominique Fawn Hill's costumes are both accurate to the period and characters; note Sassy's bohemian getups and Gail's ultra-trendy (for 1967) ensembles. Fan Zhang provides both original music and sound effects that include sirens, radio broadcasts, and pop hits like "I Heard It Through the Grapevine," "Where Did Our Love Go?", and "Time Has Come Today."

Among her characters, Sampson has her favorites, but she gives vivid, raucous voice to everyone's ideas and in doing so she capture the fury and optimism of an era in which a total rethinking of American society seemed only too possible. That history went in another direction doesn't diminish the achievement of This Land Was Made, a title that, appropriated from Woody Guthrie's famous song, carries quite a sting. The play is a powerful reminder of America on the brink, a destination to which we have been much too accustomed. --David Barbour