By Eric George Tauber
SAN DIEGO–Sam (aka Sam-I-Am) is the State Street Bridge Troll of Rockford, Illinois, just south of Chicago. Sam claims his spot with a lawn chair, braving the bitter winds of February. This is where he waxes philosophically and conducts business. It’s never really clear what that is, but he seems to be the man who can acquire things others demand.
“You always tryin’ so hard to look hard.”
Terrell Donnell Sledge plays Sam with a dark and brooding severity. He’s smart and talented, but prefers to keep his own company. While he also has a kind heart, he’d rather you didn’t know it. His heart goes out to Nia (Chaz Shermil), who’s like a little sister to him, but there’s an undercurrent of something more in the awkward pauses that pass between them.
Characters come and go across the bridge, giving us only brief glimpses into their lives. Monique Gaffney is a force to be reckoned with as Ronda, a streetwise beat cop. But when you wear a badge, there are rules to follow and lines not to be crossed.
The hood is like a small town in that they’ve known each other their whole lives. His friends are hatching plans to make it big in hip-hop. They’ve got big dreams, but have to cope with small realities. Nia is an expecting unwed mother, Shantell works at McDonald’s and Ana lives in her car. But if they can win the attention of “corporate thugs,” they’ve got it made.
Cortez L Johnson is a bouncing ball of energy as Tea, Sam’s childhood friend. Enthusiastic and impishly charming, he knows just how far he can push the boundaries. He’s the one who knocked-up Nia and discovered Ana, (Nadia Guevara) a young woman with a melodious voice who’s trying to get musical career going.
Demetrius Clayton cuts and imposing figure as Shantell. Talented and driven, a lack of anger management may be his greatest obstacle. He exudes such an aggressive energy that we thought it would come to blows. Fortunately, it was a clash of rhymes rather than physical violence.
“You love it when we entertain and can’t speak.”
The spoken word duel, freestyling to Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car” rocked the house. These young men were clearly in their element, busting rhymes from the tops of their minds and reaching down into their souls, expressing the anger and frustration of young men in their station, wanting more but always having to make do with less, feeling the stress of living with their pain and trying to make it rain.
The story ran more in circles than an arc. At the Cygnet Theatre’s intermission, a woman asked me if I could explain what was going on. As middle-aged Jews from the suburbs, we both felt a little lost.
“Failure is a beautiful sword that separates hearts from heads.”
My overall impression of The Wind and the Breeze is that it’s not yet what it could be. There were two mic-drop moments, but we wanted more. I hope that Playwright Nathan Alan Davis takes it back to the drawing board so that characters come to be more fleshed out and their talents are given more opportunities to shine. When it does, I’ll be there.
*
Tauber is a freelance writer specializing in coverage of the arts. He may be contacted via eric.tauber@sdjewishworld.com