Drama Masks: ‘Two Trains Running’ is an electrifying triumph

This is Drama Masks, a Bay Area performing arts column from a born San Franciscan and longtime theatre artist in an N95 mask. I talk venue safety and dramatic substance, or the lack thereof.

It’s no coincidence the current administration removed Jackie Robinson’s name from the record. The Hall of Famer broke barriers in the US military the same way he later would in professional sports. His stats weren’t “accidentally” purged by the DOGE-bags, he was targeted. The stupidity of the current administration is matched only by its malice, pettiness, and commitment to white supremacy. Removing someone of Robinson’s importance wasn’t an accident, it was a message that someone who looks like him has no place in the story they’re (re)writing about history.

The sad paradox is that the same racism Robinson faced in his time is a fight we’re still having nearly a century later. Still, it’s worth remembering that he—and everyone who came before and after him—went into that fight being told it was a losing battle. How many times have we heard that since November?

As I continue to keep my eyes peeled for any signs of Bay Area theatre rejecting its hard-fought-for diversity (there are a few I already suspect), it makes one all the more grateful for those who continue to tell stories that aren’t the milquetoast clichés produced ad nauseum. It’s what makes shows like the two below—no doubt chosen months in advance—all the more radical through contemporary eyes.

We shouldn’t still have to fight an uphill battle just to get recognition. Having said that, rest assured that the battle hasn’t been lost.

TWO TRAINS RUNNING AT ACT

Ah, Black capitalism. Constantly touted as the surefire solution to post-slavery uplift by everyone from Booker T. Washington to Jay-Z. Never mind the fact that capitalism, by its very nature, promotes self-interest over wider community necessity, it also hinges on the idea that market demand will magically create that for which we shouldn’t have to pay. If you wonder why the lyrics to “Moment of Clarity” always turn my stomach, it’s because Jay-Z has no interest in giving back to the poor community from which emerged (which would require he and his fellow billionaires paying more taxes), but wants that community to celebrate his success. Yeah, that helps.

August Wilson witnessed these contradictions first-hand in his hometown of Pittsburgh, making it only a matter of time before he dramatized them. In 1990, the theatre giant gave the world Two Trains Running (through May 4 at ACT’s Toni Rembe Theater, SF), his ensemble piece about the post-WWII generation of Black Americans coming to terms with their place in the Civil Rights Era. That he does so with both a realistic indifference and his trademark electric dialogue explains why the Pulitzer-winner’s work makes him seem less playwright and more prophet. (Can you say that about David Mamet?)

Memphis (Michael A. Shepperd) paid good money for his diner. He’s poured blood, sweat, tears, and the best years of his life into keeping it running, even as the number of patrons has dropped recently. The city has offered to buy the building, and he’s all too eager to off-board the property, especially since the money will get him on one of the titular two trains that will take him back to his Down South home. The only hang-up is that he feels he’s being low-balled and won’t take a penny less than his personal asking price. As regulars (and one newcomer) migrate in and out for meals and personal business, the “debt” everyone owes to this place (and one another) becomes impossible to ignore.

I have to confess a deep connection this production—playing in rep with The Comedy of Errors as a co-production with The Acting Company—reminded me of. During my senior year of high school, my drama class went to see ACT’s production, then in the Curran, of Wilson’s Seven Guitars, starring Keith David, Ruben Santiago-Hudson, Viola Davis, and the Bay Area’s own Steven Anthony Jones (having just filled in for Zakes Mokae). It was the first time I’d seen an all-Black cast in-person and all but solidified my determination to make theatre an important part of my life. And that’s not even counting how strongly I connected with characters meant to have lived decades before I was even born.

As much as the wide-eyed Black teen loved that production, the Black anti-capitalist adult may have loved this one even more. There’s a musicality to Wilson’s prose that can easily be overlooked by those who don’t know. One of my favorite interviews with him, shortly before his death, has him recounting how the music of John Coltrane entranced him and let him know a future in the arts was what he needed to do.

The inextricable link of art, politics, economics, and community is one of the strongest throughlines of his Pittsburgh Cycle, and it’s on full display in this production directed by Lili-Anne Brown. At nearly three hours, there isn’t a single superfluous moment to be found. And with the Toni Rembe’s HVAC making sure CO² levels ever got higher than 869ppm made me feel as safe in the theatre as the characters feel in Memphis’ diner.

TWO TRAINS RUNNING runs through May 4 at ACT’s Toni Rembe Theater, SF. Tickets and further info here.

KILLING MY LOBSTER’S BAD LOBSTER

The hypocrisy of dividing all action into what is or isn’t a sin is that it often disregards human complexity, particularly the motivation behind a person’s actions. I’m not saying one need adopt the ancient Greek ethos (which held the will to carry out an action more important than the outcome), but there’s a Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables has the devout Javert as the villain and “sinner” Jean Valjean as the hero. Maybe we sin for survival, maybe for selfishness. The point is, we all have the capacity to be redeemed. Alternately, as Curtis Mayfield famously sang, “If there’s Hell below/ Then we’re all gonna go.”

Examining our sins is the latest topic for the hilarious heathens of Killing My Lobster in their latest sketch show, Bad Lobster (through April 26 at Eclectic Box, SF). It’s a 20-sketch anthology—complete with hosting segments by Trek star and chair-gymnast “Jonathan Frakes” of Fact or Fiction?—in which head writer April Pascua and director Phil Wong aim to hold the guilty accountable, even if they see the appeal of being naughty.

It’s the sort of show where hashtag-activists can tweet their support for an Amazon strike just as their same-day Prime orders arrive; the sort of show where an old “yenta” can justify having pork dumplings at a Chinese restaurant; where the 8^th Deadly Sin is personified as a Gen-Zer named “Cringe.” It’s a show that speaks to each and every person who’s had the Pink Panther theme play in their head as they’ve pondered snatching an item or two (dozen) from Sephora—I mean, it’s just there! Why not take it?

Although the final two or three sketches go on a bit too long, Wong (one of the Bay Area’s most reliable and ridiculously prolific acting talents) knows how to keep Pascua & Co’s scripts moving at a steady clip. Wong’s history with KML goes back almost a decade, and his steady hand here shows an understanding of broad comedy, full-stage blocking, and the unique flavor of what makes a KML show work. It doesn’t hurt that he’s got an ensemble of KML all-stars (Melanie Marshall and Benny Garcia), great up-and-comers (Lauren Andrei Garcia and Emmy Dwyer), and the incomparable Charlie Gray, who kicks off the show as the bearded Frakes, from which one never stops laughing.

There weren’t many masks in the opening night full house, but I think a few may have put theirs on after seeing me in my Flo Mask? Eclectic Box being what it is, my Aranet4’s CO² levels hit 2,685ppm by the end of the 90-min show. Still, given that those 90 minutes were spent laughing at the expense of South African oligarch, they were certainly well-spent.

KILLING MY LOBSTER’S BAD LOBSTER runs through April 26 at Eclectic Box, SF. Tickets and further info here.