Reviewed by Wanda
Sabir
“It goes back to when life first began…all life began at the watering
hole. …. and this is where evolution has taken us: churches, fast food
cardiac arrest pit stops and an endless supply of liquor stores. The
Africans used to say: “Before the white man came we had the land and
they had the bible. Now we have the bible and they have the land.”
--Homeless Man
I left the San Francisco Black Film Festival’s Award’s night last month
feeling really happy as I headed for Recovery Theatre’s The Spot in its
final performance at St. Boniface, located in the heart of the
Tenderloin on Golden Gate and Jones Street in San Francisco. The streets
were quiet that evening compared to just days earlier when a young man
was killed and drunken or otherwise inebriate denizens toyed with the
idea of entering the church for the play, then decided not to. I found a
parking spot just across the street, and when walked in, the director
and playwright Geoffrey Grier was speaking as I spotted my friend.
I was so happy that I hadn’t missed the last performance of the play I’d
been trying to get to for over two years? Just after Shabaka made his
acceptance speech, I eased on down Florida to my car and headed over to
Golden Gate where I found a parking spot just across the street from the
church where Marvin X hosted his Black Arts and Poetry Festival a few
years ago. I had no time to spare as I scanned the room looking for my
friend and or a seat. Chokwadi waved her hand and I sat down next to her
just as Recovery Theatre director and playwright Geoffrey Grier mounted
the stage to open the show.
The theatre went black and we heard a voice telling us a story of
seduction: James Brown’s “King Heroin” was speaking –heroin a master
lover whose jones rode even the most stalwart ex-lover. It was hard to
shake him, the promises so sweet, the lovin’ so good. It’s the same with
his queen: crack, the poison of choice we find when its personnel take
their posts at the Spot.
I’d never heard the song before, but this others that night provided
eloquently a libretto for the characters whose lives we were to meet at
The Spot. The music, which was on sale afterwards, added an extra
dimension to the story as it unfolded like the first step in a 12-step
process most characters hadn’t heard of or responded well to.
I’d just seen a film the day before at the SFBFF, “Transformations,”
directed by Javier Molina, which reminded me of The Spot. Same scenario,
folks stuck in a place where death or imprisonment are the only way out
unless one finds a way to leave “the life of crime” behind. The Spot
focused more on the trap of addiction, addiction to illegal and legal
drugs. One often hears of how crack cocaine will make a mother sell her
child for a hit, it also affects fathers the same way. One addict (Vinny
Smyth)lets his child burn up in a car on one of San Francisco’s hottest
days because he couldn’t stop chasing the high.
Another character, Lex, (Luchen Baker)was angry because his dad had had
an accident that crippled him, the resulting pain and addiction to first
legal, than illegal pain killers occurred when his insurance refused to
approve his surgery. It’s a complex story which I think is the point of
The Spot.
The stories of the people who find themselves pouring libations on
Golden Gate and Leavenworth, Jones, or Taylor –and other such spots in
urban settings, are often victims of a system in this country where
depending on your zip code police services won’t respond to nuisance
calls. A woman was having people sign a petition closing night to
address this. It’s a place where one is not granted human status, so if
one’s life is to have value, it has to come from within—there is no
outward social reinforcement. Even the poverty pimps benefit from one’s
destitution. No one wants the folks hanging at the watering hole to
prosper.
The play opens with two men talking about the absence of places where
black people can gather and celebrate. Call it redevelopment or urban
removal, the result is the same, wastelands filled with wasted people,
most of them poor black and male. Survivors of “the last lobotomy
attempt,” a drunkard (Vernon Madera) with brimless hat and disheveled
disguise says to no one in particular. He’s alone on stage— standing in
the twilight he pulls out a flask takes a sip then pours a little for
the ancestors.
“Before whites came, we had the land—they had the bible.” He says. “Now
we have the bible and they have the land.” He stumbles off stage as two
others—drug dealers this time, arrive early to claim the spot for a
day’s business. The spot is near a liquor store. One of the men acts as
security for the business –it’s early morning, and the day is
threatening to be one of the hottest of the season for the second day in
a row. When Mohammed (Doug Marshall) arrives with his two nieces he’s
putting through school he thanks his friend and invites him into the
store for a beverage.
The language here is beautiful. Grier told me that Vernon Madera who
found himself homeless during this current run of the play, developed
this character—the elixir in the magic potion, but on the mean streets
of San Francisco and other mythic spots, there are no magic wands or
fairy-godparents to ease the sorrow. And so the day goes, drug sales are
slow. Old friends come by, customers who want a better deal, former
addicts in recovery now, one of the men’s sons, and a man who is just
out of a treatment center for a month.
This man brags about his son and how he’s clean 30 days, the rejoinder
is why are you’re here if you are trying to change your life. The
temperature rises and the activity on the corner increases, the OGs Geno
( Stefon Williams) and John (Darrin Westmore) are joined by Lex, a
youngster, John’s son.
Lex shoots his gun in the air and a man dies. He is charged with murder
or manslaughter, along with the death of the child in the car who isn’t
his. Without a previous record, Lex gets ten years. It’s criminal the
time he has to spend behind bars when an anger management class would
have been a more positive intervention back when his dad got hurt,
became disabled and lost his job.
After his girlfriend (Nicole Harley)is harassed by the guards when she
visits, then stops visiting as much, the tough street savvy kid realizes
just how little control he has over the situation he's in. He drops the
street bravado he can't back up and decides to listen to the older men
inside who assist his adjustment to prison life.
The prison scenes are realistic –drugged inmates, transvestites, players
whose game is tired, and the indignity of the treatment of the visitors
not to mention their wives or significant others. Also addressed is the
mental illness among the prison population.
Grier’s writing is three dimensional, the characters live and breath.
The spot is a place people call home when in fact it is a grave. Lex
returns home to find everything different especially at the place of
origin. His girlfriend is older and a lot wiser. His children are 10,
his father is dead and he has to make some choices so that he can live.
The actors are marvelous, especially the young couple, the griot or sage
and the two OGs who hold it down—until one of them returns home. One
could see director Ayodele Nzinga’s hand in the production—especially
the dialogue and the relationship layers between Lex and his dad and Lex
and his girl, both in and out of prison.
The audience was receptive often singing along with the soundtrack. The
Spot will be back continues through this weekend at The Next Stage, 1620
Gough St. @ Bush in San Francisco, Thursday, July 26 and 27. All shows
at 8:00 p.m. For information call (415) 643-6011 or visit
www.sfrecoverytheatre.org.
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