‘East Texas Hot Links’ @ Jubilee Theatre
—Jan Farrington
“It’s so quiet out here you can hear the stars shining,” says one of the Top O’ The Hill Cafe’s regulars out in East Texas.
Too bad it won’t stay that way tonight.
Jubilee Theatre and director Charles Jackson Jr. open the company’s 43rd season with one of actor/playwright Eugene Lee’s best scripts, the 1990 East Texas Hot Links (Jubilee produced it a couple of decades ago, I’ve been told). Set in the 1950s, in a small “For Colored Only” diner at the edge of town, the play’s surprising dialogue and vivid characters (almost all are men of different ages) hold our interest—and the troubles and trials they’re dealing with are, sadly, still too familiar.
It’s a look at a tightly bound community where people have strong reasons to depend on each other and know who to trust—and who not. Where it’s safest to stay mostly inside the boundary lines, and not take the chance of finding yourself on the white man’s radar. And it’s a look at natural ambition and pride, and the price a young Black man might pay for stepping outside the community, for putting loyalty and friendship aside—all for the “perks” of working for a powerful white man. Money and status, and girls: it all blends together into a future that looks good.
The play runs a scant 90 minutes without intermission, and for most of it, we have a grand time listening to these guys brag, joke, and jawbone with each other—and flirt a bit with the capable cafe owner Charlesetta Simpkins (Cherie Williams), a nice-looking woman who keeps a bat under the bar.
On a stool close by is Roy Moore (Bradley Atuba), a strong-looking basketball champ who spent a bit of time in Huntsville, but seems a solid citizen now. At a side table is Columbus Frye (Stefon Green), who prefers Charlesetta’s cooking to his wife’s. He minds the jukebox, keeps a hanky handy a la Satchmo, and has a funny line of banter. Enter a blind poet named Adolph (Bill Hass), who sits down beside him trailing an improvised line of poetry that falls somewhere between August Wilson and rap (not invented yet, of course). Blind poets take us back to ancient Greece, so we’re sure right away that Adolph knows a thing or two about life.
Across the cafe is younger guy XL Dancer (Orlando Valentino), Columbus’ brother-in-law, who works for local bigshot Mr. Ebert, who’s building a highway. XL sees Ebert as his ticket to success. “I got no links, no chains, no wife,” he says. XL is only responsible for “me”—and no thank you, he’s not part of any of the “food chains” the other men see shaping their lives. He’s hot, he’s eager, he plays the odds and picks fights.
He’s trouble.
Coming in as the evening goes on are the strong, protective farmer Buckshot (Dameron Growe), who hangs his rifle on the wall—a peaceful move that nonetheless brings violence to mind—and Boochie (J.R. Bradford), a thoughtful sort who turns out to be more of a “see-er” than the blind poet in the room. And there’s a kid, Delmus (Preston Busby), anxiously using the wall phone to call Ebert’s office about a job lead that XL gave him.
The story is tied up with a bit of news that floats in and out of the conversation—that “boys” working on the highway crews are disappearing. This is Klan country, and if you just felt a slight shiver, you’re not wrong. This pleasant evening in the cafe will take a disastrous turn, fueled by Delmus’ innocence and XL’s total misreading of his “spot” in Ebert’s favor, and then pull time backwards to the moment “just before” things go South. (That phrase never sounded so terribly right.)
Director Jackson and this terrific cast pull us in emotionally, and then make Lee’s “back in the day” story hit us hard: it’s too real, too heart-rending, too now.
WHEN: September 29-October 29
WHERE: 506 Main Street (just off Sundance Square), Fort Worth TX
WEB: jubileetheatre.org
