Arts & Entertainment
Bootylicious
Woolly Mammoth production explores black gay experience with bold humor
‘Bootycandy’
Through July 3
Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company
641 D Street, NW
$35-$65
202-393-3939
Phillip James Brannon and Jessica Frances Dukes in Woolly Mammoth’s ‘Bootycandy.’ (Photo courtesy of Woolly Mammoth)
Woolly Mammoth is wrapping up its season-long exploration of race, gender and sexuality with playwright Robert O’Hara’s “Bootycandy.” Comprised of 10 related vignettes, O’Hara’s fearless and very funny new work dives right into what it means to be black and gay in America — two subjects the 41-year-old playwright (he’s also the production’s director) has had a lifetime to consider.
As the title suggests, “Bootycandy” (a childhood term for penis used by the playwright’s mother and grandmother) confronts sexuality head on. Drawn loosely from O’Hara’s past, his refreshingly bold scenes are full of off-color laughs and scathing satire, but they don’t shy away from the heavier aspects of experience either.
When we first meet Sutter — the play’s imperfect hero and O’Hara stand-in played by Phillip James Brannon — it’s the ‘70s. He’s a chatty, Superman underwear-clad kid who is endlessly fascinated with his own bootycandy, always wondering what to do with it, how to take care of it and what ways it might help bring peace to the world. His harried mother (Jessica Frances Dukes) isn’t too sure what to make of her little boy, and as he grows older she remains equally mystified by his differentness.
Fast forward a decade to “Happy Meal” and Sutter is a sullen Jackie Collins-reading teen. At the dinner table he interrupts his mother’s loud talk to announce that a man followed him home from school. The revelation sets off a hilarious barrage of defeminizing remedies rattled off by his mother (this time played by Laiona Michelle) and well-meaning stepfather (Lance Coadie Williams) including no drama club, constant chores and throwing a ball. Through the humor, O’Hara (as playwright and director) and Brannon’s Sutter brilliantly atomize the scene with a mist of mystery and menace, hinting at the dangers that might come with the teen’s budding sexuality.
As the show moves forward, the little plays fit satisfyingly together like pieces from a puzzle. An early scene features a few ghetto gossips hilariously dishing a young woman who has named her baby girl Genitalia. That same unfortunately named girl appears later in the play as a not-to-be-messed with, fully grown, butch lesbian (Michelle again). Bald and sleekly suited, she stands on a Cancun Beach annulling her commitment to the woman she no longer loves.
Meanwhile, Sutter’s sexual odyssey continues. As he comes of age, he starts having sex with his closeted brother-in-law (Sean Meehan). In a darker episode titled “The Last Gay Play,” Sutter’s chance meeting with a nutty and briefly naked trick (also played by Meehan) presents him with an opportunity to get back at the world a little. Things get out of hand and the actors actually threaten to stop the show.
O’Hara effortlessly shifts from urban theater circuit (also known as modern chitlin’ circuit) humor to heartrending, more nuanced material and everything in between. Some moments of note include Williams’ tour de force monologue as an over-the-top fundamentalist preacher with a secret. Later in the play, four black playwrights (including an adult Sutter) unwittingly come together for a workshop moderated by a clueless white moderator. In a bit of meta-theatrical fun, each of the playwrights purports to have written one of the show’s segments.
The biting comedy is performed on a shiny stage beneath a shimmery proscenium arch (compliments of Tom Kamm) by a truly marvelous five-person ensemble who masterfully portray a much larger number of characters ranging in age, sexual orientation and in one actor’s case even gender. Kate Tuner Walker costumes the cast in spot on street clothes that perfectly place the action in the ‘70s, ‘80s, through to the present.
With “Bootycandy,” O’Hara puts it out there. And while some of the scenes hit better than others, the play never for a split second lacks for feeling or fun.
Team DC, the umbrella organization for LGBTQ-friendly sports teams and leagues in the D.C. area, held its annual Night of Champions Awards Gala on Saturday, April 20 at the Hilton National Mall. The organization gave out scholarships to area LGBTQ student athletes as well as awards to the Different Drummers, Kelly Laczko of Duplex Diner, Stacy Smith of the Edmund Burke School, Bryan Frank of Triout, JC Adams of DCG Basketball and the DC Gay Flag Football League.
(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)
The 2024 National Cannabis Festival was held at the Fields at RFK Stadium on April 19-20.
(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)
Covering the @NatlCannaFest at RFK Stadium for @WashBlade . Stop by the LGBTQ+ booth and pick up a paper if you are here. pic.twitter.com/is7hnsaPns
— Michael Patrick Key (@MichaelKeyWB) April 20, 2024
Theater
‘Amm(i)gone’ explores family, queerness, and faith
A ‘fully autobiographical’ work from out artist Adil Mansoor
‘Amm(i)gone’
Thorough May 12
Woolly Mammoth Theatre
641 D St., N.W.
$60-$70
Woollymammoth.net
“Fully and utterly autobiographical.” That’s how Adil Mansoor describes “Amm(i)gone,” his one-man work currently playing at Woolly Mammoth Theatre.
Both created and performed by out artist Mansoor, it’s his story about inviting his Pakistani mother to translate Sophocles’s Greek tragedy “Antigone” into Urdu. Throughout the journey, there’s an exploration of family, queerness, and faith,as well as references to teachings from the Quran, and audio conversations with his Muslim mother.
Mansoor, 38, grew up in the suburbs of Chicago and is now based in Pittsburgh where he’s a busy theater maker. He’s also the founding member of Pittsburgh’s Hatch Arts Collective and the former artistic director of Dreams of Hope, an LGBTQ youth arts organization.
WASHINGTON BLADE: What spurred you to create “Amm(i)gone”?
ADIL MANSOOR: I was reading a translation of “Antigone” a few years back and found myself emotionally overwhelmed. A Theban princess buries her brother knowing it will cost her, her own life. It’s about a person for whom all aspirations are in the afterlife. And what does that do to the living when all of your hopes and dreams have to be reserved for the afterlife?
I found grant funding to pay my mom to do the translation. I wanted to engage in learning. I wanted to share theater but especially this ancient tragedy. My mother appreciated the characters were struggling between loving one another and their beliefs.
BLADE: Are you more director than actor?
MANSOOR: I’m primarily a director with an MFA in directing from Carnegie Mellon. I wrote, directed, and performed in this show, and had been working on it for four years. I’ve done different versions including Zoom. Woolly’s is a new production with the same team who’ve been involved since the beginning.
I love solo performance. I’ve produced and now teach solo performance and believe in its power. And I definitely lean toward “performance” and I haven’t “acted” since I was in college. I feel good on stage. I was a tour guide and do a lot of public speaking. I enjoy the attention.
BLADE: Describe your mom.
MANSOOR: My mom is a wonderfully devout Muslim, single mother, social worker who discovered my queerness on Google. And she prays for me.
She and I are similar, the way we look at things, the way we laugh. But different too. And those are among the questions I ask in this show. Our relationship is both beautiful and complicated.
BLADE: So, you weren’t exactly hiding your sexuality?
MANSOOR: In my mid-20s, I took time to talk with friends about our being queer with relation to our careers. My sexuality is essential to the work. As the artistic director at Dreams of Hope, part of the work was to model what it means to be public. If I’m in a room with queer and trans teenagers, part of what I’m doing is modeling queer adulthood. The way they see me in the world is part of what I’m putting out there. And I want that to be expansive and full.
So much of my work involves fundraising and being a face in schools. Being out is about making safe space for queer young folks.
BLADE: Have you encountered much Islamophobia?
MANSOOR: When 9/11 happened, I was a sophomore in high school, so yes. I faced a lot then and now. I’ve been egged on the street in the last four months. I see it in the classroom. It shows up in all sorts of ways.
BLADE: What prompted you to lead your creative life in Pittsburgh?
MANSOOR: I’ve been here for 14 years. I breathe with ease in Pittsburgh. The hills and the valleys and the rust of the city do something to me. It’s beautiful, it’ affordable, and there is support for local artists. There’s a lot of opportunity.
Still, the plan was to move to New York in September of 2020 but that was cancelled. Then the pandemic showed me that I could live in Pittsburgh and still have a nationally viable career.
BLADE: What are you trying to achieve with “Amm(i)gone”?
MANSOOR: What I’m sharing in the show is so very specific but I hear people from other backgrounds say I totally see my mom in that. My partner is Catholic and we share so much in relation to this.
I hope the work is embracing the fullness of queerness and how means so many things. And I hope the show makes audiences want to call their parents or squeeze their partners.
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‘Amm(i)gone’ explores family, queerness, and faith
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