A tragedy reimagined: Goodman, Definition theaters combine for superb ‘Fat Ham’
“Fat Ham” — 3.5 stars
“It’s Shakespeare. Kind of.”
That’s how Juicy, the meditative, somewhat unmoored central character in “Fat Ham” perceives the tragic, surreal, hilarious and poignant events that unfold in James Ijames’ fiercely entertaining, “Hamlet”-inspired domestic dramedy that reimagines the Danish prince as a queer, Black man from North Carolina.
An examination of intergenerational family violence and trauma and one member’s reluctance to perpetuate that toxic behavior, “Fat Ham” — which received the Pulitzer Prize in 2022 — is heartwarming, tension-filled and laugh-out-loud funny. Moreover, the clever, contemporized riff tips its hat to its source, incorporating Shakespeare’s dialogue, in some cases verbatim.
The excellent Chicago premiere marks the latest collaboration between Goodman and Definition theaters. Helmed by Definition artistic director Tyrone Phillips, it’s a smart, spirited, superbly acted revival whose message about choosing pleasure over harm bears repeating.
Standing in for the melancholy Danish prince is sensitive Juicy (Trumane Alston), a “thicc” (read voluptuous), “soft” young man conflicted over the death of his father, Pap (Ronald L. Conner), a mean, violent patriarch and owner of the family’s barbecue joint. Incarcerated for fatally stabbing his cook, Pap — who hailed from a long line of butchers and abusers — was shanked in prison by a fellow inmate one week earlier.
The action unfolds in the backyard of Juicy’s parents’ home, where he and his cousin, stoner-philosopher Tio (Victor Musoni, fantastic in the Horatio role), half-heartedly decorate for a barbecue celebrating the marriage of Juicy’s mother Tedra (Anji White) to his uncle Rev (also played by Conner), Pap’s bullying brother.
Designer Arnel Sancianco’s set — festooned with paper lanterns and pink and white tulle swags — is pleasantly familiar and revealing. Note the funeral wreath discarded near a garbage can, which suggests the haste with which Tedra and Rev — “Fat Ham’s” Gertrude and Claudius — wed.
From a cooler, Pap’s ghost emerges. Revealing to Juicy he was murdered on Rev’s orders, Pap demands his son avenge him and then provides, in grimly eloquent detail, exactly how that vengeance should unfold.
But before Juicy can act, family friend and Polonius stand-in Rabby arrives. Played by the inimitable E. Faye Butler, whose entrance gives an already energized production a seismic boost, Rabby is accompanied by her determinedly unfeminine daughter Opal (Oreon Roach as the Ophelia counterpart) and her son Larry (a deeply sensitive Sheldon Brown in the Laertes role), a U.S. Marine.
The celebration commences with food, followed by karaoke and charades and, later on, confrontations and revelations.
A steady stream of laughter accompanies most of the action, and mostly comes courtesy of Musoni and Butler, whose deft comedic performances nearly steal the show.
But there are poignant moments, too, mostly involving Juicy’s, Opal’s and Larry’s struggles with identity, sexuality and the roles their families expect them to play.
Case in point, Juicy’s goofy yet affecting karaoke performance of Radiohead’s “Creep.” Performed with aching vulnerability by Alston, it’s one of the play’s most unsettling and riveting moments.
Warbling the Another involves Juicy recalling his father’s attempt to toughen him up by tossing the then 7-year-old’s beloved Barbie doll into the smoker. Kudos to Alston, whose matter-of-fact delivery conveys the numbing effect of casual cruelty.
Provocative as it is, some things about “Fat Ham” troubled me, although none would prevent me from recommending the show. To wit: I found the characters’ intermittent addresses to the audience distracting and unnecessary. They pulled me out of the story every time.
Then there’s the coda set to singer Deniece Williams’ 1976 hit “Free” and featuring a positively beatific Sheldon Brown. I found the penultimate scene, which will remain unspoiled here, provided a more satisfying conclusion, but I am in the minority.
The opening-night audience wholeheartedly embraced those final moments, and after some reflection I understand why. If “Fat Ham” serves in part as an argument against toxic masculinity, its coda suggests the better alternative may be a kind of femininity: the soft, nontoxic kind reflected in the dulcet voice of an R&B diva.
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Location: Goodman Theatre, 170 N. Dearborn St., Chicago, (312) 443-3800, goodmantheatre.org
Showtimes: 2 and 7:30 p.m. Thursday and Saturday; 7:30 p.m. Friday; 2 and 7:30 p.m. Sunday; 7:30 p.m. Wednesday through March 2. Also 7:30 p.m. Feb. 25. No 7:30 p.m. shows Feb. 16, 23 and March 2; no show Feb. 12
Tickets: $25-$85
Running time: About 100 minutes, no intermission
Parking: Nearby garages; discounted parking with Goodman Theatre validation at the Government Center Self Park at Clark and Lake streets
Rating: For adults; includes strong language and mature subject matter