Wilson's words resonate in 'Radio'
Late playwright's epic concludes powerfully at Huntington Theatre
You can almost get lost in the lyric ocean of August Wilson's dramatic language. One of his crazy-wise coots or self-deluding operators starts going on about golf, or the American flag, or a slot machine, and after a few minutes you think, ``What is he talking about?" Then, just when you know you're completely at sea, the wave breaks, and you land right on the sharp rock of Wilson's point. And you realize that's exactly where he was steering you all along.
``Radio Golf," the final work in Wilson's magisterial 10-part epic of African-American life, has more than a few of those dizzying waves, but ultimately they build together to create a complex meditation on success, community, and what matters in life. If it's not the strongest play in the cycle -- and it isn't -- it still lets us hear, one last time, the thoughtful and humane voice of a playwright who died too soon.
After tweaking it in Seattle, Baltimore, and Los Angeles following its New Haven premiere, and in advance of a hoped-for Broadway run, director Kenny Leon has now brought ``Radio Golf" to the Huntington Theatre Company. Judging from reviews, this production is leaner and stronger than its earlier versions.
In any case, it's a powerful conclusion to Wilson's remarkable saga. Set in Pittsburgh's Hill District, each play in the cycle unfolds in a different decade of the 20th century. ``Radio Golf" zeroes in on the greed and confused identities of the 1990s, with a tale of ambitious young men trying to redevelop the neighborhood and get ahead themselves.
Naturally it's not that simple; Wilson's main characters, the idealistic Harmond Wilks and the more materialistic Roosevelt Hicks, may see progress as an unmixed blessing, but their creator most certainly does not. As Harmond and Roosevelt move forward in their plans to destroy the Hill in order to save it, their clashes with their neighbors and with each other throw the complexities of development and redevelopment into high relief.
Sometimes Wilson hits these themes a little too obviously, but mostly his gifts of humor, humanity, and plain common sense keep us connected to his wonderfully individual characters even as we notice their larger symbolic weight (and some important thematic links to other plays in the cycle). We see the archetypal clash between the striving Harmond and Roosevelt, on one side, and the less ``successful" but more grounded Sterling Johnson and Elder Joseph Barlow on the other, but we also see the tiny quirks that make each man a fully realized character onstage.
Much credit for that should go not only to Leon's smoothly paced direction, but to strong performances by all, particularly Anthony Chisholm as old Joe and Hassan El-Amin as Harmond. Stepping in at the last minute for the temporarily ailing John Earl Jelks, Eugene Lee brings an entrancing mix of gravitas and homespun wit to the deceptively simple Sterling. The one female role is less fully rounded, but Michole Briana White gives Harmond's ambitious wife, Mame, a helpful dose of warmth.
This production is the eighth of Wilson's plays to appear at the Huntington; others include last season's ``Gem of the Ocean" and the greatest play of the cycle, ``Joe Turner's Come and Gone." Both of those went from here to Broadway.
The theater's history and empathy with the playwright show in the richly textured design it provides for ``Radio Golf." David Gallo's beautiful wreck of a set, with its crumbling bricks and blasted windows surrounding the one repainted room where the developers set up shop, is particularly notable, as is Kathryn Bostic's lively, mood-deepening music.
And opening night had an extra, poignant touch: the posthumous presentation of the Wimberly Award to August Wilson, graciously accepted by his widow, Constanza Romero. Wilson gave much to the Huntington and to Boston. It's only right to give thanks in return.
