Goodman is opening its centennial season in the smaller Owen Theatre with the world premiere of “Revolution(s),” a unique collaboration between playwright Zayd Ayers Dohrn and Rock & Roll Hall of Famer Tom Morello of Rage Against the Machine and Audioslave. Additional lyrics and music are credited to others, among them Boots Riley, Big Boi, Killer Mike, Knife Party, Grandson, Ryan Harvey, Matt Shultz, Chris Stapleton and Anne Preven.
First introduced as part of the theater’s New Stages Festival, the show is a hybrid of rock concert and musical, a genre that’s becoming increasingly popular. One hint is the offer of ear plugs at the entrance, but I’d argue that using them defeats the purpose. The music, played by a five-person onstage band and the performers, is loud — as it is supposed to be.
Unfortunately, some of the lyrics are drowned out by the propulsive hard rock/hip-hop/punk/metal music, making it hard to follow what the songs are saying. Perhaps fortunately, most of them don’t really further the plot but rather are rousing anthems and calls to action with such titles as “Raising Hell,” “Rise to Power,” “Whatever It Takes” and “Hold the Line.” (The quiet exceptions are quite beautiful and come as a relief.)
Still, projecting the lyrics on the massive multi-paned window that forms the backdrop of Derek McLane’s multi-level industrial warehouse set would be a plus, especially since Rasean Davonté Johnson’s projections include snippets from the songs and indications of time and place, as well as a view of the Chicago skyline.
Much of the action is set on the South Side of Chicago, but it alternates between two time periods — 1989 and 2016 — and has three main plot lines. It also tackles a dizzying array of still current social issues, among them racial prejudice and bullying, immigration enforcement, military PTSD, mental health and unethical economic practices. The characters have plenty to be enraged about, but when it comes down to their behavior, they seem to be their own worst enemies.
We’re left wondering — or, at least, I was — what Dohrn is trying to say. Does history always repeat itself? Can people avoid the situations that trap them? Is making music the answer? Are there forms of resistance that aren’t self-destructive? Or is a corrupt system at fault for all our ills?
Directed by Steve H. Broadnax III, the narrative opens in 2016 with Hampton Falk-Weems (Aaron James McKenzie) returning from the military after several tours of duty in the Middle East. He suffers from PTSD and has gone AWOL from a VA hospital, but no one knows that yet. On the phone with his mother Emma (Jackie Burns), he promises to be home as soon as he takes care of a few things, but she’s worried and sends his fraternal twin brother Ernie (Jakeim Hart) out to find him and keep him out of trouble.
Hampton meets up with his best friend Sean (Billy Rude). Ernie, who’s an ace guitarist but has been keeping it sort of secret, shows up, and there’s talk of putting the old band back together, spurred by the arrival of Lucia (Alysia Velez), Hampton’s old girlfriend, who has been having problems with immigration and invites them to play at a protest concert. But, almost immediately, they get in trouble with the cops.
Meanwhile, Hampton and Ernie’s father Leon (Al’Jaleel McGhee), who is in prison, is eager to talk to his sons and says in a letter that there’s not much time, which suggests he’s dying. He wants to tell them the story of what really happened that resulted in his incarceration and Emma’s life as a single mother.
Two of the three plot lines basically contrast Hampton and Ernie’s efforts to avoid becoming like their father. Actually, Hampton believes he’s doomed to repeat the past and plunges headlong into the rebellious behavior that guarantees it. Painfully introverted Ernie goes in the opposite direction, avoiding any political involvement and even the guitar because Leon was the musician who taught him to play it.
The story of Leon and Emma unfolds in parallel, sometimes simultaneous scenes starting in 1989 with an accidental meet-cute in a hallway. She’s a high school history teacher with an Ivy League education who throws a book out of frustration with her students. He’s an ex-con whose cousin Sunny (Michael Earvin Martin) got him a custodial job in her school but, like her, he has an activist streak. They soon get together, and their saga of illegal activities and years on the lam, including with two infants, is like a cross between “Bonnie and Clyde” and “Robin Hood.”
Although the time frame is different, I found it hard not to read into it elements of Dohrn’s personal experience. As you may have guessed from his name, he’s the son of Bernardine Dohrn and Bill Ayers, co-founders of the militant radical-left Weather Underground, who spent years on the run before turning themselves in. They also have past connections to the University of Chicago and live in Hyde Park.
I met them in the lobby before the show’s opening night, and Bill Ayers said they’d already seen it five times. I didn’t get to ask what they thought, but I’d bet they agree with most of us that the performances and music are terrific, and the staging isn’t far behind.
I wish the details of the story were clearer, the characters were more fully developed and nagging questions were resolved like how and why Emma changed from a bad ass to a fearful mom, but maybe that’s just me.
Judging by the Broadway caliber of many of the creators, “Revolution(s)” undoubtedly has aspirations beyond Chicago. I suspect it needs more work before it is ready for the Big Apple.
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