By James V. Ruocco
The time is 1965.
The place is an unnamed Southern town with a medium population.
But on this hot, humid morning, something is terribly wrong.
It's obvious to every single white folk just waking up.
Five or six minutes pass.
Confusion sets it.
People are missing.
What the hell is going on?
Now what?
Billed as "a satirical fantasy" meant to be performed by an entirely black cast in exaggerated white face make-up - a reverse minstrel show of sorts - "Day of Absence," as envisioned by Ward, intentionally and arguably pokes fun at the town's angry and confused white residents who slowly come to realize how dependent they are upon the major black populace around them who happily (or unhappily) bounce about as their chosen maids, housekeepers, nannies, garbage collectors, caregivers, cooks, shoe shine boys, drivers, delivery men, bathroom attendants and other labor-oriented task workers who are at their beckoned call 24-7.
"You don't know what it's like to wake up when your cheerful, grinning, happy-go-lucky faces are missing," cries the mayor during an important, live television broadcast.
No sugar-coating - just direct, in-your-face, take off the blinders commentary - shaped with right track observation, scathing wit, razor-sharp energy and applied ridicule.
Helming "Day of Absence," director Laurie Maria Cabral is mindful of the playwright's reverse minstrel show stylization, his recurring themes of blatant whiteness, his discrimination against black America, his cruel and crazy humor and his inhabited caricature premise and conscience. That knowledge gives her staging a committed and timely pulse, offset by an atmospheric, smartly placed southern vibe and mentality which allows the material to unfold with the snap, bite and sting concurrent in the original script. Directorially, she uses inventive strategies, movements and staging techniques to add richness, acidity and flabbergast to the proceedings. Mind you, it's all in jest, but underneath Cabral makes certain each scene, each story and each character is completely in sync with Ward's vision, his conceit, his history, his hypocrisy and his need to shock, stun, hurt and cajole through live, pointed and heated theatrical storytelling.
Addressing the play's reverse minstrel show conceit and the utilization of a predominantly black cast, Cabral abandons the broad, white face make up concept indicated in the production notes, opting instead to use white, plastic masks to cover the faces of her energetic, keyed-in cast. It's a directorial choice that works especially well and, in this go-round, adds a surreal, sci-fi aura to the proceedings without ever once veering away from Ward's stinging portrait of southern life, its ignorant grasp of reality and its determined, well-placed displays of landmark resonance.
Grounded, intuitive and free-wheeling, every member of the cast delivers standout performances - white mask in place - playing one, two, three or more roles apiece, steeped in farce, absurdism, fantasy and nostalgic homage. It all works wonderfully well, collaborated with vim and vigor that roars, shouts, stirs, cajoles and astonishes in all the right places.
A shrewd, social commentary with mocking jest and mutually perceptive articulation, "Day of Absence" is a monstrously entertaining piece of theatre with chronological sweep, gleeful dynamic and wired, shuffling wunderkind. Directed with infectious, blown-up caricature and side-by-side playfulness by Laurie Maria Cabral, this HITW revival is feisty, slapdash fun kicked into orbit by an extraordinary ensemble cast whose sharp, collective intake of Douglas Turner Ward's ground-breaking story is laced with darkly comic flourishes and frenzied, well-timed diagnosis that complements and anchors the playwright's effective, alarming, massive, innuendo-laden lampooning.
"Day of Absence" is being staged at Hole in the Wall Theater (116 Main St., New Britain, CT), now through July 30, 2022.
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