Photo by Keshon Campbell. Courtesy of The Black Rep.
The St. Louis Black Repertory presents Radio Golf | The Edison Theater at Washington University, 6465 Forsyth Blvd. | $20–$50
The St. Louis Black Repertory’s 48th season continues with its latest production of August Wilson’s Radio Golf. First performed in 2005, Radio Golf was Wilson’s final work before his death later that year. Radio Golf represented a capstone to Wilson’s ambitious, lifelong Century Cycle project, consisting of ten plays each representing a different decade in the Black American experience. All but nine of the plays in the Cycle are set in Pittsburgh’s Hill District, where Wilson was born and raised. Over the course of the cycle, we see the Hill Distict emerge as an epicenter of Black culture in Pittsburgh only to collapse into economic decline, mirroring the neighborhood’s real-life decay throughout the 20th century. (Pittsburgh’s Hill District is often cited as a prototypical example of failed urban renewal projects, with the neighborhood losing over 70% of its residents and hundreds of businesses between the 1950s and 1990s.)
Tragically fitting given its status as the final play in the Century Cycle, Radio Golf, set in 1997, finds the Hill District on the verge of erasure as the historic Black neighborhood finds itself in the crosshairs of a gentrification project. Harmon Wilks (Reginald L. Wilson), an ambitious politician on the verge of launching a campaign for mayor, believes the urban renewal project will be a boon to his campaign, bringing economic revitalization to the Hill District, where he, like August Wilson, was born and raised. Wilks and his chief partner in the project, cocksure banker and entrepreneur Roosevelt Hicks (Ronald L. Conner), plan to demolish the dilapidated homes in the Hill District, which they purchased from the city of Pittsburgh after they were seized through eminent domain. Harmon’s involvement in the project is further goaded through his social climbing wife Mame (Velma Austin), who, like Harmon and Roosevelt, is more interested in the opportunities for social, political, and economic advancement the project represents to them rather than the implications of demolishing the very neighborhood that Harmon once called home.
The development plan quickly unravels when it is discovered that one of the homes acquired in the city’s property seizure was acquired illegally. The home belongs to the Elder Jospeh “Old Joe” Barlow (Ron Himes, the founder of the Black Rep), an affable layabout who dispenses rambling oral histories of the Hill District throughout the play. Once it becomes clear that Barlow has no intention of selling his home, Harmon begins to have serious doubts about the morality of the Hill District revitalization project, much to the consternation of Mame and Roosevelt, who view the project as their ticket to a better life.
As was the case with all of Wilson’s brilliant works, Radio Golf appears to be a deceptively straightforward morality play on its surface, but the sociocultural commentary underlying it is remarkably complex, providing ample material for a cast of the caliber the Black Rep has recruited for its current production. In the first half of the play, the audience is tempted to sympathize with Roosevelt’s full-throated defense of gentrification, due in large part to the profound charisma and confidence Ronald Conner imbues this character with. After all, how many of us St. Louisans, driving through North City or North County, haven’t thought to ourselves at one point, “Why can’t they just tear down all these ugly abandoned houses and make this place look like nice, like Ladue, or Brentwood, or Clayton? That’s what the people in these communities need—more businesses, more jobs, nice clean buildings.” We view these places as a blight on our suburban sensibilities, and convince ourselves they fell into squalor due to the willing participation of their residents.
But the characters in Wilson’s plays are always more complex than they initially seem. Over the course of the play, Roosevelt emerges as a sort of Mephistolean figure, tempting Harman, who is running for the highest office in the city, to sacrifice his integrity for power and wealth under the guise of Black empowerment. In Roosevelt’s view, Black empowerment means empowering himself, and the demolishment of a single poor, doddering old man’s home is a more than worthwhile sacrifice to further his own ambitions, even as that man’s home comes to represent the last shoot of Black identity left in the Hill.
Playing the angel to Roosevelt’s devil is Sterling Johnson (Kelvin Roston, Jr.), a contractor and former schoolmate of Harmon’s, initially attracted to the project for both the employment opportunity it represents for him and the promise of the revitalization of his home. Sterling quickly realizes, however, Roosevelt’s utter conviction to continue forward with the project even after it becomes clear it will render Old Joe, the Hill District’s last remaining historian, homeless. Sterling, imbued with depth, humanity, and easygoing charm by Roston, will likely be the favorite character of many in the audience, initially introduced as a lovable buffoon who, over the course of the play, develops into a fierce and ardent defender of his community. Johnson frequently makes references to childhood games he and Harman used to play, using the metaphor of a game of “cowboys and Indians” to characterize the project as stealing the land from the people who once inhabited it in the name of progress, not unlike the United States’ own Westward expansion during the 19th century, a betrayal made bitterly ironic given the project is ostensibly championed by a Black community organizer (Wilks) against the very community he was raised in.
As is always the case with the Black Repertory theater, the contributions of luminaries from St. Louis’ theater community greatly enhance the production. St. Louis University theater professor Jim Burwinkel (scene design) and prop maker Mikhail Lynn make the central conflicts of Radio Golf visually unmistakable: Harmon’s desk, on stage right, is flanked by a portrait of Martin Luther King, Jr. and his own campaign poster, which he tears down in frustration towards the end of the play. Conversely, Roosevelt’s desk on stage left is overseen by a poster of Tiger Woods meticulously sinking a putt, a figure that comes to represent Black advancement through personal wealth and relentless ambition.
These visual metaphors are further augmented by Shevare Perry’s costume design, outfitting Harmon in humble sweater vests in contrast to Roosevelt’s flashy red suit, which brings to mind Peter Cook’s sharply dressed Lucifer in the 1967 film Bedazzled. Praise must also be given to light designer Jayson Lawshee and sound designer Justin Schmitz, whose choices augment the immersiveness of the production design. Schmitz memorably employs popular and era-appropriate songs to transition between scenes. (e.g., quintessential party anthem “This Is How We Do It” by Montell Jordan is used in an early scene when Harmon is still riding high on the expected windfall from development project.)
The Black Rep is one of the nation’s foremost theater companies focused on the Black American experience, and naturally, they take to Wilson’s plays like a hand to a golf glove. The themes in Wilson’s work naturally translate to the Black Rep’s oeuvre, with the conflicts of the Hill District perfectly mirroring those of the Black community in North St. Louis and elsewhere. Furthermore, the Rep attracts the very most talented members of the national theater community due to its stature. The Black Rep has produced the entire Century Cycle multiple times over its 50-year period (its first production of Golf was in 2008) and it is easy to see why—seeing Wilson’s plays in person will always provoke weeks of thought and reflection afterwards. Few authors were able to provide as emotionally and intellectually nourishing material as Wilson, poignantly capturing both the tragedies and joys of Black American life—and we are incredibly fortunate to have some of the nation’s leading Wilson devotees bringing his timeless work to our attention. | David Von Nordheim
Note: Due to disruptions from the storm damage, the theatrical run of Radio Golf has been extended through June 8th. For more information or to purchase tickets, visit theblackrep.org.
