Past Reviews

Regional Reviews: Chicago

The Color Purple
Goodman Theatre
Review by Christine Malcom


Aerie Williams and Cast
Photo by Brett Beine
For the closing production of its ninety-ninth season, the Goodman Theatre is presenting The Color Purple, based on the novel by Alice Walker (and the Warner Bros./Amblin Entertainment Motion Picture) with a book by Marsha Norman and music and lyrics by Brenda Russell, Allee Willis, and Stephen Bray. The production, directed by Lili-Anne Brown, with music direction by Jermaine Hill and choreography by Breon Arzell, is excellent, but it cannot entirely overcome the weaknesses of the adaptation.

Some of the problems with the text stem from the ambition of adapting a story of this complexity and time depth. Although Norman's book excises a handful of characters and condenses storylines, the show simultaneously feels too long and too superficial in its handling of certain themes, relationships, and plot elements.

For example, Celie's discoveries about her biological father (and her reversal of material fortune) are rushed through in a phone call that is played for laughs. In contrast, although Norman retains Sofia's beating at the hands of the mayor and other white townsfolk, the play more or less cuts the years of servitude she is sentenced to (as well as Squeak's mixed-race heritage and her role in "rescuing" her one-time rival). Moreover, after one highly dramatic scene in which Celie tends to Sofia in the immediate aftermath of the beating, there seems to be a lack of lingering consequences or effects, which makes the violence this powerful, inspiring character suffers seem gratuitous, rather than central to the lives of Black women.

The problems of complexity and time depth are intertwined in the adaptation. Early on, the design communicates the passage of time through projections (co-designed by Mike Commendatore and Rasean Davonté Johnson). Act I flicks through the years of Celie's life from the age of fourteen in 1912, when she gives birth to the second child her father takes from her. After about 1916, though, the projections specifying the years vanish until very late in Act 1, when the year is 1930. In between, Shug's flapper act carries the weight of conveying that the story has jumped forward perhaps a decade; but without a clear sense of the passage of time, some of the character developments are difficult to understand or accept as plausible.

Finally, the music itself is simply uneven, and the show suffers more than most from the endemic issues of a weak second act. The first act has almost all of the true gems from the guilt-inducing toe tappers "Big Dog" and "Brown Betty" to the absolute stand outs, "Hell No!" for Sophia and the ingenious "Push da Button" for Shug. Even the more workmanlike expository numbers (for example, "Huckleberry Pie" and "Uh Oh!") are markedly stronger than those in the second act, which is burdened by the the much more generic, uninspired pop numbers that contribute to the uneven emotional tone. To be sure, "Miss Celie's Pants" and "Any Little Thing" are both tremendous fun, but they occur back-to-back and flanked by much weaker, less memorable material.

All of this said, the Goodman's production buys forgiveness for many of these issues. Brown's direction, Hill's musical direction, and Arzell's choreography make the best elements of the show shine and add luster to even some of the weaker components. Arnel Sancianco's set is nothing elaborate, but it effectively serves to create a church in the rural south as effectively as Celie's revivified shop and Shug's upscale Memphis house. Heather Gilbert's lighting and the projections make good use of Sancianco's "rough-hewn" vibe to evoke everyday and sacred beauties. The silhouettes that Commendatore and Johnson create on the omnipresent line of off-white laundry are particularly impressive. The costumes by Samantha C. Jones are also impressive and compensate, to a certain extent, for the time-related confusion by conveying the accelerated pace of women's fashion and taking up the rather neglected thread of aging by distinguishing the generations of men by their dress as well.

Brittney Mack leads an excellent cast as Celie. She has presence, charisma, and a strong voice, all of which make one wish that the adaptation were kinder to the central character. Mack does a great deal to redeem the arc by sheer force of talent, but Celie simply isn't all that well-rendered in the adaptation, and the music for the character (with the exception of "Miss Celie's Pants") is largely forgettable, generic musical theatre fare.

The rapport and chemistry between Mack and Aerie Williams as Shug Avery is outstanding. Williams has a clearer path to success, as Shug has much stronger music and, on the whole, a much simpler character arc to pursue. But Williams certainly elevates that simplicity, and both her voice and physicality are outstanding.

The same is true of Nicole Michelle Haskins as Sofia. The character is relatively simple, straightforward, and surely lovable, and she arguably walks away with the best music in the show. But Haskins is not simply on autopilot. Her comedic chops are on full display, but she also shows her range in the more dramatic material that is sadly brief and under explored.

Haskins and Gilbert Domally (Harpo) play wonderfully against one another, and their second act duet, "Any Little Thing," is a cheeky, sexy triumph. Just as the adaptation sells Sofia short, the story is similar for Harpo. We learn little about how he would have come to be so wildly attracted to Sofia, and the issue of domestic violence between the two characters is not something the book is interested in taking seriously. And yet there is no doubt that Domally and Haskins would have knocked it out of the park if the text had been interested, as the two repeatedly find nuance where there would otherwise seem to be little or none.

Evan Tyrone Martin as Mister, Celie's abusive husband, does good work to sell the character and his rather unbelievable (or, rather, underexplored) arc from violent lecher to pillar of the community. Martin's work with Mack is fearless early on, when the character seems to be nothing but evil, and convincingly tender when the two commiserate over having been loved and left by Shug, time and time again.

As the female chorus, both at home and in Africa, Lachrisa Grandbery, Sharriese Hamilton, and Reneisha Jenkins serve as an entertaining kind of judgmental community hydra; the vocal arrangements (and the actors' execution of them), as well as the precisely in-sync choreography, are delightful comic relief, but as with many others in the cast, it seems clear that these actors would have been more than capable of playing up the dark underbelly of settled, conservative women if the source material had given them more to work with.

Elsewhere in the cast, Shantel Renee Cribbs is engaging as Nettie, and Daryn Whitney Harrell nails the assignment as Squeak, Harpo's sometime girlfriend. But like Grady (Jos N. Banks in a sadly small but wonderful role) and Buster (Curtis Bannister), Sofia's Squeak equivalent, the adaptation thinks to include these crucial characters, but then fails to develop the relationships, which is frustrating given the obvious talent on hand.

The Color Purple has been extended through August 3, 2025, at the Goodman Theatre, Albert Theatre, 170 N Dearborn Street, Chicago IL. For tickets and information, please visit GoodmanTheatre.org or call 312-443-3800.