OUR LADY OF 121ST STREET
The San Francisco Playhouse is currently staging the hilarious, yet thoughtful, Stephen Adly Guirgis opus: OUR LADY OF 121ST STREET.
The characters that Stephen Adly Guirgis populates his plays with are reminiscent of Sharon Stone’s line from BASIC INSTINCT: when questioned why she likes to use block ice and an ice pick, rather than cubes, she replies, “I like rough edges.” To his credit, all of Stephen Guirgis’ characters have interesting rough edges. These rough edges are NOT due to any flaw, or lack of development, in his writing. The rough edges are the battle scars and gritty urban survival mechanisms manifested in his Harlem denizens.
As the Buddhists are quick to point out, the most fetid conditions: the rankest humus, yields the most beautiful lotus blossoms. Like cactus fruit, his characters are both prickly on the outside and sweetly, not saccharinely, sensitive on the inside. Having been educated in a parochial school in Harlem and having spent five years as a Violence Prevention Counselor in juvenile facilities and such hardball places as Riker’s Island, Guirgis, knows his characters well and develops them equally well.
The plays namesake, also known as Sister Rose, devoted her life to educating, disciplining and rescuing her Harlem students, if not herself, from the imperfect lives into which they were tossed. Strangely, perhaps miraculously, her last opportunity to serve her community comes after she has died. Just hours before her funeral is scheduled her body is mysteriously discovered missing from her casket. To the people who came to pay their respects at the memorial service, the delay resulting from the search for Sister Rose’s body gives them necessary time to revisit and work on the issues that have arrested their movement through time.
By the time at least a portion of Sister Rose’s corpse is found for burial, the protracted wake and visiting hours have performed the essential alchemy on the lives of her former students. Momentarily at least, the environs of 121st street are rife with recognitions, reflections, reconciliations, epiphanies and acceptance of what was, is and will be. The message of Sister Rose becomes as clear as the chapel bells.
The rude and crude language may not be appropriate for all ages, although we all know what the little darlings hear and say in school. None-the-less, the message clearly redeems and lifts the play above its PG13 language standards. The play is not only uplifting but it serves as a good lens with which to examine the possible baggage we may be uselessly schlepping or mooring ourselves to.
This play will make you laugh and melt the San Francisco frostbite on your nose, toes and heart. For tickets contact the San Francisco Playhouse box office via www.sfplayhouse.org or call 415-677-9596.
Reviewed by Jeffrey R Smith of the San Francisco Bay Area Theatre Critics Circle