Purlie Victorious – 29 December 2023

Purlie Victorious was a challenging show for me as a white audience member, but I appreciated every moment in which the actors/characters did not hold back on my account. I was intrigued by the juxtaposition of the Uncle Tom philosophy (which makes me very uncomfortable despite, or perhaps because of, how genuinely likable Gitlow’s character was in the show) and the public direct advocacy of Reverend Purlie (more in line with my modern perspective and social/political movements in my lifetime). I would even go as far as to say the show is more about the clash between these methods of achieving dignity even more than it is about a clash between races.

Shockingly, Leslie Odom, Jr.’s titular character didn’t really do it for me. He spoke very fast, and I sometimes had a hard time differentiating the sarcasm from the sincerity because he was adopting the mannerisms of a preacher—very consistent tone where all of the phrases are said in an equally powerful way, which made it hard for the most important messages and ideas to stand apart. I related much more to Gitlow. While the way Gitlow forced himself to be obsequious made me squirm, I found Billy Eugene Jones’s portrayal of Gitlow really soared as an acting performance. His discomfort was palpable and I could see and feel the cognitive dissonance between his words and his thoughts in a way that absolutely moved me; I think of myself as someone who, in a difficult situation, would try to get what I want through kindness first, even if it meant subjugation, like Gitlow, rather than through subterfuge like Purlie. I found Gitlow complex, and relatable. To me, Purlie’s character was just loud. He did not develop the complexity or the depth that I felt from Gitlow.

When the whip came out toward the end, I inadvertently found myself (from my front row seat), putting my hand up to not have to see it. This is absurd because I was in a theatre. I knew that nobody was getting hurt, least of all me. But it was a wake up call for me about my own privilege—I get to choose to turn away from this kind of violence on stage in a farce, when so many people actually had to live through it. I was only being asked to watch it rendered in art, yet I had this visceral reaction.

I believe firmly in not just the power of theatre to make people uncomfortable, but also the value and necessity of of doing so. Theatres are spaces that makes people sit with their discomfort, process it, ride it out, and keep going. I cannot emphasize enough how important that is. In today’s world of short attention spans, many of us are used to being able to stop watching when something pushes us too far. In a theatre, most of us don’t have an easy exit. No one wants to get up and make everyone else in their row get up. So we stay, and we process, and we think about the feelings that the show is evoking for us. We have to.

For me, Purlie Victorious evoked both laughter and serious thoughts and ideas for me to continue to examine. The end of the show unexpectedly made me cry. After a journey of smiles and hard-earned acknowledgments, the hope that the Bill of Rights and all of the Constitutional Amendments would protect me felt unexpectedly relevant and raw in our current time of political chaos.

I did not attend this performance on a press pass.