Pass Over @ Second Thought Theatre
—Jan Farrington
Antoinette Chinonye Nwandu’s Pass Over is heartbreaking, hard, and pierced by moments of joy and laughter made more precious by our despairing near-certainty that the two young Black men she’s put onstage will never, ever “get up off this block.”
In fact, chances are slim they’ll even escape this painfully specific urban corner, lit by one unrelenting street light. It’s always night in this place, and though dawn sometimes seems about to arrive (a shift of light, a twitter of birds), it never quite does.
Second Thought Theatre’s fine production, dynamically directed by Sasha Maya Ada, is a riff on Waiting for Godot—but with more passion and desire: for change, for a Promised Land, for a “pass over” to a different world from this one, where the “po po” are forever watching and ready to strike.
Charismatic actors Daniel Saunders and Vandous Stripling II are Moses and Kitch, the two longtime friends at the heart of the play. Moses, as befits his name, is the natural leader; life weighs on him. Kitch is younger, sunnier by nature (or shorter experience), and his playful in-the-moment spirit draws Moses out of his darker moods. Moses once had a brother, killed by the police. Kitch is careful to say he isn’t a replacement—though we can see he comes ever closer to filling that role.
Their language is street language, their lithe physicality a joy to watch—though it must come, in large part, from hard lessons on how to survive in the world (great fight/violence direction by Jeff Colangelo). And so, we rock along with them until a stranger appears: a white man with a Red Riding Hood basket of goodies, suddenly crossing the border into their world. Mister (a detailed, difficult performance from Matthew Manelli) is lost, he says. On his way to visit his elderly mother (he says), he’s come into an unfamiliar part of the city. He laughs too much.
Kitch and Moses are scared and suspicious—but Mister has food, and Kitch is willing to admit he’s near to starving. Golly gee gosh, says the stranger, just take what you want. Kitch eats while Moses interrogates—and finally, with an exchange about why “some people” can use the N-word and others can’t, Mister erupts (in a moment that made me flinch with its truth) and walks away.
Almost immediately, Ossifer arrives, a white policeman played by the same actor. He’s what we’ve expected, bigoted and bullying. But his face is Mister’s face—and though his manner’s not the same, our thoughts bounce between the two white men. Is only one of them a threat?
Natalie Rose Mabry’s stark urban set (metal bench, concrete wall, trash cans) is lit by the cold blue glare of the street lamp. (Lighting designer Aaron Johansen has that icy aura just right.) Moses and Kitch take turns sleeping on the bench; that tells us a lot. Sounds (Noah James Heller) and red lights (special effects by Isa Flores) coming from beyond their spot keep both men on high alert.
Black writer/poet Jacqueline Woodson (Brown Girl Dreaming) says good stories should offer us both “mirrors and windows.” That is, perhaps, playwright Nwandu’s deepest gift. Black or white or brown, we look into her mirror, finding what this story tells us about ourselves. And we sit at her window too—most of us seeing, eyes wide, a very different experience of life. We hope and fear for Moses and Kitch, who with every moment feel more our responsibility, our shame. The powerhouse mix of language—profanity and humor, Bible verses and spirituals, fury and hope—Nwandu has crafted for her “stuck” guys keeps us watching…and metaphorically, at least, on the edge of our seats.
Pass Over premiered in 2017 at Chicago’s award-winning Steppenwolf Theatre. That production was put on film by Spike Lee in 2018, and had a run at Lincoln Center. In the summer of 2021, it was the first drama to open on Broadway since the shutdown of early 2020. Several rewrites have been reported along the way—though STT’s version feels very close to what I remember of the filmed production. Whatever the theatrical tweaks, Pass Over remains a potent, challenging, can’t-stop-thinking-about-it drama.
You’ll take it home with you.
WHEN: Through July 30
WHERE: Bryant Hall (off Blackburn Street, Dallas)
WEB: secondthoughttheatre.com
