Uneven, combative 'Mary' confronts bigotry

Attribute the collective metaphoric thud at the conclusion of Goodman Theatre's world premiere of Thomas Bradshaw's “Mary” to audience members' jaws hitting the floor.

Eighty minutes into this provoking, inconsistent 90-minute examination of racism and homophobia, “Mary” seems headed for a predictable, heartwarming resolution that suggests reconciliation and tolerance have prevailed.

But Bradshaw turns the tables to deliver a coda as shocking for its content as for its tone, which contradicts nearly everything that preceded it.

Therein rests one of the problems with this play, first seen two years ago as part of Goodman's New Stages Series. There are others. The cartoonish characters and over-the-top approach favored by Bradshaw and director May Adrales undermine the play's credibility, particularly with regard to its core issues: the casual embrace of racism, the complacency with which victims endure it, the transformation into bigots of those subjected to bigotry and the failure of education to foster enlightenment.

Other playwrights have successfully addressed those issues. At first, Bradshaw's audacious approach and cringe-inducing language suggest a deliciously politically incorrect satire in the offing. Unfortunately, this “discomfiting” comedy doesn't deliver. It occurred to me that “Mary” may be Bradshaw's joke on all of us. The problem is, it lacks the artful craftsmanship required of a good quip.

The action begins in 1983, with closeted college student David (Alex Weisman) inviting his lover Jonathan (Eddie Bennett) to his Maryland home to meet his parents James (Scott Jaeck), a retired Department of Defense bigwig, and Dolores (the comically oblivious Barbara Garrick), whose family has owned the former plantation for generations.

The household staff consists of Mary (the charismatic, likable Myra Lucretia Taylor) and her husband Elroy (Cedric Young), who live in a small cabin on the estate. Indentured servants (read slaves) who neither read nor write, Mary and Elroy cook and clean, fetch and carry for the white family whom Mary's family has served for some 200 years.

James and Dolores have a kind of paternal approach to their servants, whom they routinely describe using the “n” word. As for Mary and Elroy, who receive food and clothes but no wages, they accept the term and the conditions of their “employment.” Even David seems strangely unperturbed by the arrangement until an appalled Jonathan points it out, which prompts David to confront his parents. And Mary — in one of the play's most shocking scenes — speaks the language of her oppressors when she insists to David that “you're not going to convince me emancipation was good for black folks.”

Meanwhile Mary and Elroy have prejudices of their own. They believe homosexuality is a sin. To preserve their own immortal souls — as well as David's — they decide to stop Jonathan from corrupting the young man, which they accomplish with a well-timed BB shot to Jonathan's groin.

“Mary” is not without laughs, although Bradshaw's humor tends to generate more of a wince than a guffaw. And the character of Mary, clearly the most developed, suggests that acceptance and tolerance are possible.

To a degree. Maybe that's Bradshaw's point: that beliefs deeply embedded never really change.

One last thing. “Mary” concludes without a curtain call, attributable to the prescience of Bradshaw and Adrales, who may have believed their audience — shocked into silence — would be unable to muster applause.

“Mary”

2 stars

<b>Location:</b> Goodman Theatre, 170 N. Dearborn St., Chicago, (312) 443-3800 or goodmantheatre.org

<b>Showtimes::</b> 7:30 p.m. Tuesday through Thursday; 8 p.m. Friday; 2 and 8 p.m. Saturday; 2 and 7:30 p.m. Sunday through March 6.

<b>Running time: :</b>About 90 minutes, no intermission

<b>Tickets::</b> $10-$42

<b>Parking: :</b>Paid lots nearby

<b>Rating: :</b>For adults, adult content, profanity, sexual situations