‘Cadillac Crew’ @ Bath House (Soul Rep Theatre Co. & Echo Theatre)
—Martha Heimberg
In the opening act of Cadillac Crew, Tori Sampson’s play about four women’s rights activists working in the Civil Rights Movement in Richmond, Virginia in 1963, feminist ringleader Rachel (a relentlessly tight-lipped, humorless Mikaela Baker) throws down the gauntlet before her fellow workers: “For way too long I’ve walked three steps behind white men, two steps behind white women, and a half-step behind black men,“ she says, referring to her consuming battle for racial desegregation in schools, workplaces and diners.
A co-production of Echo Theatre and Soul Rep Theatre Company, this noisy, rousing mash-up of realistic drama, furious feminism, and a say-what? jump at the end (to 2016 and the slogans of Black Lives Matter) is directed by Anyika McMillan-Herod, executive director and co-founder of Soul Rep.
The women are all still shaken by the horrible news that a “Cadillac crew “of two Black women and two white women were murdered and then burned in their car while organizing rallies in Florida. Now, Rachel has just learned that her grand plan to have Rosa Parks herself speak at tomorrow’s rally in Richmond has been nixed by male organizers—because Parks was also going to speak on violence against women. Such issues, the men said, would distract from the main message of racial equality for all.
Rachel’s had it with men—Black, white or green—taking all the credit and refusing to acknowledge the contributions and sacrifices of women in the movement. The hour-long first act is mostly raging Rachel trying to convince the others to form their own Cadillac crew and “get our names out there” while organizing women across the South.
On cue, each of the four characters provides an example of what it costs her personally to show up at this office (designed by M. Scott Tatum), answer the phones, write speeches on a Smith-Corona for men to deliver, and try to do the female stuff of being a mother, wife, fiancée, and so on. Abby (a svelte, touchingly chirpy Autumn Robinson) is near collapse because two of the women “burned to a crisp” were former college friends. Dee (CD Lovehall, in commanding church lady mode), has a first-grade daughter integrating her school (across picket lines), and wants to “give it time.” Sarah (a thoughtful, near-pleading Stephanie Oustalet) is the white girl from a distinguished family of feminists who, it turns out unsurprisingly, has more in common with Rachel than the same birth city.
A taped recording of vocal protesters never stops for the entire first act, indicating the constant threat just outside the venetian blinds of the office. Inside, the women shout at each other over the din, about bossy men, Malcolm X and whether white girls can sing the lead in a Black pop song. Even hyper-rational Rachel talks loudly, and sometimes everybody shouts at once, so that what they are saying is lost. Even some of Abby’s playful jokes get lost in the uproar. We definitely feel the relief of the exhausted characters when intermission arrives.
During our 15-minute intermission, the stage is emptied. In the second act, the four women are on stools, one miming driving a car, and each taking turns reading from their journals about how great it is to be on the road preaching women’s rights and desegregation. There is a brief crew breakdown: the women actually talk to each other about their fear of attack. But then all of them vanish, and we’re left with some video posts on the back scrim about how history overlooks some people, and how important names are too-often lost.
The last scene is a bland interview in the present with a disembodied voice pointing out how real events can be forgotten forever, depending on who is telling the story. Eventually, all four actors come to stage front and tell us in tried and trite language that the upcoming vote is critical (Cadillac Crew was written prior to the last presidential election) because we must avoid fascism and try to respect one another, regardless of race and gender.
Who would disagree?
In a short video following the play’s premiere at Yale Repertory in 2019, Boston native and Yale Drama grad Sampson said that once she’d found out about the Cadillac crews, it prompted her to write a play (including some historic events and names) about how so great an effort could be lost to history. She makes her case, although the second act feels rather more like a PowerPoint than a play.
I left the theater reminded, once again, why Black women will remain justifiably angry until they achieve the gender and racial equity they deserve. Then—and now—there’s still so much work to be done.
WHEN: September 15-30, 2023
WHERE: Bath House Cultural Center, Dallas
WEB: echotheatre.org
