Steppenwolf delivers a bracing premiere of emotional, sobering 'Pass Over'
Two-thirds of the way through Antoinette Nwandu's unflinchingly authentic “Pass Over,” after a harrowing encounter with a racist police officer, two young African-American men recite the names of dead friends and acquaintances.
All were young men of color killed by authorities during confrontations not necessarily criminal in nature. The list is long - so long the duo can't recall the names of some victims, who remain as anonymous in death as they were in life. Nothing more than a statistic.
It is a sobering moment, underscored - like so many others in Steppenwolf Theatre's world premiere - by frustration and resignation.
Fear. Disappointment. Anger. Those emotions animate Moses and Kitch (superbly played by Waukegan native Jon Michael Hill and Julian Parker), the central characters in “Pass Over.” A contemporary riff on Samuel Beckett's “Waiting for Godot,” Nwandu's fiercely poetic play also incorporates the Exodus story of Moses leading the Israelites from Egypt.
The time is now. The place is a desolate street corner (realistically realized by set designer Wilson Chin) in a crime-ridden neighborhood in an unnamed American city.
Like Beckett's hapless tramps Vladimir and Estragon, Moses and Kitch spend their days waiting, making the best of a hopeless situation and longing for some kind of salvation.
They pass the time teasing and commiserating, talking smack and roughhousing and imagining the day they'll “pass over” into the promised land where flying bullets and abusive cops don't force them to sprawl face down in the street.
For all their professed intentions, fear - a kind of existential dread - keeps them rooted to the corner. Amid this unrelenting despair are fleeting moments of optimism and small acts of compassion. Moses shares his pizza crust with Kitch. Kitch keeps watch over the sleeping Moses, whose pillow, a deflated basketball, symbolizes the busted dreams of impoverished kids who imagine professional sports as their ticket out.
Of the two, Moses is savvier; Kitch is more forgiving. He's also more welcoming when a Caucasian stranger arrives, dressed in a cream-colored suit and carrying a large picnic basket.
The sublimely discomforting Ryan Hallahan plays Mister, whose smarmy “salutations” and provincial “gosh, golly, gee” expose his privilege. When the bullets fly, Mister doesn't duck. Why should he? The bullets aren't meant for him. When the shooting stops, he questions why no one calls the police, ignoring the risk that speaking up poses. He also wonders, not so innocently, why he can't say the N-word - which Moses and Kitch use freely.
“It's not yours,” explains Moses.
Not long after Mister departs, a police officer (played with cold-eyed menace by Hallahan) arrives and orders the boys to their knees.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“Nowhere sir,” they respond.
The fear in their eyes and the defeat echoing in their words make this one of the most wrenching moments in director Danya Taymor's tension-filled production.
Nwandu's script and Taymor's direction reflect, on occasion, a heavy hand in this major re-imagining of a 20th-century classic. Minor missteps include the prologue, whose chipper show tunes mocking Moses and Kitch's dangerous reality is a bit obvious, as are some racially charged moments directed at Steppenwolf's mostly Caucasian audience.
Yet every scene is expertly acted, every moment tautly played by Hill, Parker and Hallahan. Hill and Parker's exceptionally authentic performances reflect the wisdom and wariness of poor, young men consigned to society's bottom rung and desperate to keep from becoming another statistic.
“Pass Over”
★ ★ ★ ½
Location: Steppenwolf Theatre, 1650 N. Halsted St., Chicago, (312) 335-1650 or
Showtimes: 7:30 p.m. Tuesday through Friday; 3 and 7:30 p.m. Saturday; 3 p.m. Sunday through July 8. Also 7:30 p.m. June 20 and 27 and 1:30 p.m. June 25
Running time: About 80 minutes, no intermission
Tickets: $20-$89
Parking: $11 in the parking garage adjacent to the theater; limited street parking available
Rating: For older teens and adults, contains violence and strong language