The rage that fueled the race riots of 1968 is well preserved in “No Place to Be Somebody,” a 1969 play whose author, Charles Gordone, was the first black playwright to win the Pulitzer Prize.
If Gordone’s other works never equaled the success of this red-hot slice of life, perhaps it’s because the author poured all his angry energy into “No Place.”
Although its harrowing tale of survivors and non-survivors in a West Side bar hits melodramatic intensity in its final scenes, it’s the quieter moments as blacks and whites cope with racism and self-hate that make the longest-lasting impression. With the suppleness of jazz riffs and the exuberance of unvarnished street talk, Gordone’s dialogue seems tailor-made to each vibrant character.
Like the Pittsburgh diners in August Wilson’s “Two Trains Running,” each is defined by a distinctive desperation. Angriest is bar owner Johnny, a self-loathing, life-hating denizen of the numbers racket; seething with a loser’s fury, he baits his friends and sees-and makes-enemies everywhere.
Johnny’s mentor in crime, Sweets Crane, has left jail; diagnosed with a terminal illness, he hopes to help Johnny go straight. But Johnny uses his latest love slave, the daughter of a corrupt judge, to steal documents so he can extort power from his Mafia bosses. The ruse backfires, leaving only Sweets to protect Johnny from his self-destructive greed.
Compellingly, if not always smoothly, revived by Stage Acting Studio at Puszh Studios, David Mason’s slow but strong staging incorporates the studio’s real-life bar. Anchoring the sometimes-meandering action is Al Boswell’s leather-lunged depiction of Gabe, an oracular writer whose talespinning drives the plot; his monologues explore the flash points that explode when whites and blacks don’t see each other.
Playing Johnny like an erratic volcano, Stephan Turner almost overstates this cruel man’s lust for mayhem. His ferocity makes a powerful contrast to Kenneth Johnson’s messianic Sweets, a murderer who now knows just where hatred takes you.
The cast of 12 does justice to Gordone’s troubled souls. John Creighton as a frustrated white drummer and Keith Scott as a black would-be dancer register the resignation that underlies so many dreams deferred. Maureen Gallagher, playing a hard-luck whore, strenuously agonizes as Johnny’s too-trusting love. Her death makes little difference to this world, where there really is no place to be somebody.
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“No Place to Be Somebody” plays at Puszh Studios, 3829 N. Broadway, through March 13. Phone 312-327-0231.
