Review: River & Rail’s ‘Fat Ham’ — A Feast of Theatre

River & Rail's 'Fat Ham' - Marshall W. Mabry IV and Jaquai Wade Pearson - Photo: River & Rail

BY ALAN SHERROD

The play’s the thing, they say. Barely dead a week, a man’s ghost appears to his son, demanding the son avenge his murder. The ghost reveals the responsible party to be his own brother, who has now conveniently married the brother’s wife, assuming her assets and the son’s legacy in the process. Should the setting involve ramparts or a gray stone castle, you might be correct in guessing Shakespeare’s Hamlet. Instead, this setting is a southern U.S. backyard where a celebratory barbecue is being assembled to follow a courthouse wedding. Instead of fog drifting over a Danish landscape, there’s the suggestion of barbecue smoke from a grill full of meats, checkered plastic tablecloths, all on a patio festooned with Christmas lights and oddly selected party-store balloons. That sets the stage for James Ijames’ Fat Ham, a River & Rail Theatre Company production that opened this past weekend at the Old City Performing Arts Center.

Yes, Fat Ham, winner of the Pulitzer Prize for Drama in 2022, is loosely based on Hamlet. Although the main characters have parallels in both and the conflict of father versus son is the common underpinning, Ijames takes the inevitability of family and societal violence on a different sort of journey in a different sort of vehicle. Directed here by Mychael G. Chinn, the play careens wildly and unapologetically through its joyfully comedic story, much like a sitcom, but all the while concealing its real destination, one that is decidedly different from the tragedy of the past.

The melancholy protagonist here is Juicy (Marshall W. Mabry IV), a young man whose optimistic college aspirations—if not those of life—are drifting away like the backyard barbecue smoke, thanks to his mom and new dad spending his online college tuition money on a new bathroom. As if we needed the hint and signpost, Chinn has clad Juicy in a black tee shirt that reads “Mama’s Boy.” Although played for laughs, Juicy announces that his desired major is “Human Resources,” a statement and insistance that symbolizes the alternative journey that he is on.

‘Fat Ham’ – Kenneth Herring as The Ghost – Photo: River & Rail

In a sense, the tragedy of the past is exemplified by his uncle, Rev, Juicy’s new stepdad. He picks on Juicy with an unrestrained vehemence in much the same way that Pap, Juicy’s father apparently did. Although Juicy tolerates the verbal and physical abuse with shreds of bitterness, he is considering whether or not he can—or should— satisfy the ghost’s demands for retribution. Kenneth Herring symbolically plays both roles of Rev and the ghost of Pap with a simmering ebb and flow of scorn for the deliberately non-violent Juicy.

Much like Shakespeare’s Gertrude, Juicy’s mom, Tedra (Jaquai Wade Pearson), accepts bullying from her new husband even if it concerns Juicy and his future. One could almost feel sympathy for her situation were it not for her vanity and her dependence on a man to survive.

Also at the backyard party is Fat Ham’s version of Polonius, Rabby ( the marvelous Brandiss Seward), that woman at the church supper who excels in the side-eye and who simply can’t stop talking. She’s at the party with her bullied children Opal (Neveah Daniel) and navy man Larry (Matthew Draughter), characters somewhere in the vicinity of Ophelia and Laertes, but without the tragedy. The backyard barbecue also allows Juicy and friend Tio (LoRen Seagrave) the opportunity to energetically philosophize and entertain on the futility of violence and the desirability of pleasure. Tio’s extended weed-induced monologue was a true theatrical treasure.

For the audience of Fat Ham, there is much to take in. All of the performances are excellent and extend not just to brilliantly delivering zingers, but also to the reactions of those receiving them. And, there is definite danger here in laughing so hard that you miss an important line—or two.

Fat Ham’s 95+ minutes pass quickly, it being chock-full of loud moments and quiet asides; essential monologues and breathlessly delivered multi-logues; raucous ensemble scenes and soliloquies that break the fourth-wall. Admittedly, one should not expect Shakespeare from Fat Ham, but rather an admonition that different choices in life yield different results. Life is hard, but everyone need not die in Act V.