Two Trains Running

Two Trains Running

August Wilson

American Conservatory Theater, A Touring Production by the Acting Company

Many duo-tracks run in parallel, crisscross, and sometimes collide in August Wilson’s Two Trains Running, the 1960s contribution to his ten-play, 20^th Century American Cycle.  Death and life, white and Black, love and loneliness, older generation and younger upstarts, poor and wealthy are just some of the dichotomous threads running through this poetic play of powerful prose of a turbulent, turning-point period in American history.

As Pittsburgh’s historic Hill District is being demolished in 1969 piece by piece for so-called urban improvement, a Black diner doubles as a kind of community center for the last of the neighborhood hangers-on.  The eclectic group gathers daily over coffee, beans, and pie, voicing with vigor their often-conflicting views that mirror the differences advocated by Dr. Martin Luther King and by Malcom X — both assassinated for their views — how Blacks should go about finally to attain their long, overdue freedom, equality, and justice.  Through stunningly stellar performances by each of the seven cast members of New York’s Acting Company and as patiently, potently, and passionately directed by Lili-Anne Brown, American Conservatory Theater hosts a touring production of Two Trains Running well worth riding through every minute of the 150+ — a play awarded in 1991 as Best New Play by the American Theatre Critics Association.

Arriving in 1936 on one of the two, daily trains running between Jackson, Mississippi and Pittsburgh, the diner’s owner, Memphis, eventually bought his once-packed and bustling, fried-chicken-and-ribs restaurant for $5500 — an establishment now mostly empty in a neighborhood slowing dying.  The city is about to use its imminent domain powers to force him to sell his diner to make way for condominiums, and Memphis is determined to settle for “not one penny less than $25,000” — much more than his still-regulars believe he will be offered. 

As Memphis, Michael A. Shepperd’s presence in his compact, cozy diner is big and near over-powering in almost every respect — physically, vocally, personality-wise, opinion-wise — as his Memphis never just softly walks but usually loudly and forcefully stomps from behind the counter, waving his huge arms about like a windmill out of control.  Memphis believes justice for the Black man — a term he never uses, preferring like most of his buddies the ‘n-word’ instead — comes not through marching from Black Power but through hard work.  His remedy to equality is still the belief that in America, the way for Blacks to prove to whites their worth is “put your shoulder to the wheel and hope your back don’t give out.”  Michael A. Shepperd gives a performance well worth the price of the ticket.

Much more sedate as he takes his usual booth seat near the door where he peeks from his newspaper quietly to observe the current diner goings-on, Holloway (a magnificent and Bay Area favorite, Michael J. Asberry) shares many of Memphis’ conservative views but brings a more more philosophical and historical perspective in his observations.  Using stories that take on parable dimensions — his name suggesting “holy way” — the retired painter Holloway quietly but defiantly expresses his deeply held rage against injustice while also exuding a peace found in the supernatural.  

Holloway has found solace and an evident sense of peace in his own inability to effect change and yet still is able to live a life with a sense of zest and positivity.  His key to some personal tranquility has come through visiting the back, red door at nearby 1839 Wylie where resides August Wilson’s multi-play-appearing character, Aunt Ester.  We never see Aunt Ester in Two Trains, but her presence is immense.  Representing the power of Black heritage and traditions all the way back from when she supposedly stepped off the first slave ship in 1619, the 349-year-old Aunt Ester has calmed Holloway with her laying of hands and a suggestion of throwing $20 into the Schuylkill River — advice he generously imparts to others in the diner needing help in finding their own peace of mind.

And there are certainly others who are seeking their own dreams in a world full of obstacles stacked against them.  J’Laney Allen is wonderfully colorful in language and fun demeanor as the near-hyper, street-talking numbers runner Wolf who pops in and out to gather diners’ bets and to act also as a town-crier with latest news.  His dream is to get enough money to buy him at least a couple Cadillacs.

Robert Cornelius brilliantly portrays the most successful member of the neighborhood, West, the owner of the busy funeral home across the street from the diner who enters always dressed in black wearing gloves of the same color.  His wealth accumulation is his continued dream, and he hopes that he can persuade Memphis to sell him the diner before Memphis accepts the City’s offer so that West can turn around and sell the City an even bigger plot of land.

 

Stumbling about like lost in a fog, Hambone (Chuckie Benson) enters pleading over and again in a voice hollow and haunting, “You give me my ham.”  For nine years, Hambone has been seeking his promised reward for painting a white man’s fence.  He becomes the playwright’s powerful, painful reminder of so many broken promises of the white man to Blacks.  

While Hambone’s presence sometimes sends Memphis into one more shouting tirade, Risa — the diner’s one waitress and Wilson’s one woman in the play — has a beautifully expressed fondness for Hambone, sneaking him a muffin or bowl of beans under Memphis’ nose.  In many ways, DeAnna Supplee’s Risa is the most formidable character on the stage.  She firmly, defiantly in soft voice counters the oft-sexist remarks by the men around her, and her non-verbal expressions given from the behind the counter speak volumes of the enduring strength of the Black woman in a world where she is often overlooked and exploited by men both Black and white.  Risa has made an early choice in her still-young life not to be regarded as just an object of desire, cutting her legs to leave scars that speak their own loud message of her sense of independence of men’s lustful ways.

But that does not stop the newest member of the diner’s daily minion, Sterling, from immediately coming on to Risa as a smooth-talking but seemingly sincere Romeo.  James Ricardo Milord is yet one more remarkable part of this exceptional ensemble as his Sterling saunters into the scene seeking both some desperately needed income and a possible wife.  Recently out of the penitentiary — something he rather proudly tells everyone he meets — Sterling is looking for quick bucks and is more willing to trust his luck than he is to rely on a white man’s job.  He brings a contagious energy into the room and a heart that is beating not only for Risa’s attention, but also for finding a gentile way through Hambone’s fog.

Anyone looking for much plot in this near three-hour (including intermission) slice of the tough life in the Hill District’s late ’60s may be disappointed; but everyone who just sits back and takes it all in should have no trouble soon being drawn into the rich, rowdy, rewarding dialogue bouncing among and between the diner’s inhabitants.  Much is to be learned about an era that in many ways is unfortunately playing out once again as a white majority bullies for its own gains hard-working, country-loyal minorities of all sorts of races.  The examples of resilience that these stalwart members of the eclipsing Black Hill District provide and the strong community of support they form — even as they kid, poke, and argue vehemently among themselves — offer a hope that together, those being currently aggressively oppressed can band together to resist and once again can seek justice where there seems to be none coming.

Bravo to American Conservatory Theatre for welcoming the touring Acting Company onto its stage and for giving the Bay Area a chance to enter Memphis’ diner for an evening of August Wilson’s Two Trains Running where humor and rage, reality and supernatural, hard work and luck offer duo-tracks toward a dream and destination of deserved justice for all.

Rating: 5 E

 

A Theatre Eddys Best Bet Production

Two Trains Running continues in a three-hour (including intermission) touring production by Acting Company at American Conservatory Theatre, the Toni Rembe Theatre, 415 Geary Street, San Francisco.  Tickets are available online at https://www.act-sf.org, by phone at 415-749-2228, and by email at tickets@act-sf.org.

Photo Credits: Lore Photography