JADAR

★★★☆☆
The Royal Exchange Theatre is hosting the UK regional premiere of Sweat, “a sweeping state-of-the-nation play” that made Lynn Nottage the first woman to twice win the Pulitzer Prize for Drama.

Each act begins with scenes set ahead of the 2008 election, when two young adults – Jason (Lewis Gribben) and Chris (Abdul Sessay) – are released from prison. We do not find out why they were in prison until later on in the second act, creating tension, suspense and mystery for the entire 2 hour 50 minute running time (no play needs to be this long).

The bulk of the action is set in the lead-up to the 2000 election. In between scenes, we hear snippets of the then relevant Presidential candidates, from Bush Jr to Obama (or fun songs like ‘Livin’ La Vida Loca’, which help to establish the time period).

The characters never explicitly express their political views. The play is not about “hard” politics. Rather, it’s about the politics of community – a community which is microcosmic for wider society and even the United States itself.

Ultimately, whoever is in power does not matter – and interestingly, both timelines take place during Democratic presidencies (Clinton and Obama).

Nottage wrote the play in 2015, ahead of Trump turning the Rust Belt (including Pennsylvania) Red – and this play boldly explores why, before it even happened. Did people who previously voted Democrat vote for Trump because of racism? After voting for a Black man – twice? There was more to it than racism – though race was nonetheless important. Nottage pokes holes in the argument that everything is about race and that people who vote for right-wing populists are motivated purely by racism. She also pokes holes in the argument that one cannot be racist because they have a Black friend – or, indeed, voted for a Black president.

With both the US and the UK having elections later this year, the UK regional premiere of this US play, set during two elections and written during another, is timely – especially with both countries currently experiences cost of living crises (but when are we not?).

But whilst many of the themes and ideas are relevant over here, the play’s very specific context can feel, not alienating per se, but perhaps not the most accessible for Britons. This Pulitzer Prize-winning play was, no doubt, more impactful in the US, where people better understand all the political/historical/etc. context of not only the US but also, specially, Pennsylvania and the wider Rust Belt.

The play could feel more intense and dramatic but Director Jade Lewis is content on letting the writing do the work – but the writing is not punchy enough for this. It’s a slow-burn drama that has the potential to be sucker-punch but the direction lacks excitement.

There are some nice design elements. The stage is simply a bar on a raised platform, though the bar is used for a few different locations, from a parole office to a house. The platform sits on a revolve – though the revolve could have been employed more to heighten the drama. The bar resembles a boxing ring – it is a place of tension and turmoil – and it signifies the violence that is to come.

Huge slabs hang from above, the ropes looking like they might give way at any moment. At the top of the play, and early on in the second act, sparks fly, with a block or two almost slipping away on the second occasion. Even when the characters are in the bar, the foreboding industrial landscape is felt from above; it is inescapable, and it informs every aspect of the characters’ lives – even their friendships.

Indeed, when Cynthia (an incredible Carla Henry) is promoted to supervisor, there is resentment (some of it racially motivated) from her colleagues, including her friends – especially Tracey (scene-stealer Pooky Quesnel). Cynthia and Tracey are the mothers of Chris and Jason, respectively – who are themselves friends, even though the latter is racist and the former is Black. To Jason, Chris appears to be one of the “good ones”. I am reminded of White friends telling me that they don’t see me as my race or ethnicity – rather, they see me as “one of us”.

Cynthia’s transformation from worker to supervisor is crystal clear, not only in her clothing but also her movement and mannerisms. But whilst Cynthia’s friends think that she has gained power, she has actually lost it – she is being used by her superiors to deliver bad news and be on the receiving end of the blowback (shoot the messenger) and finds herself caught between her bosses and her friends.

The bosses, themselves – the antagonists, so to speak – are never seen, highlighting their elusivity and ability to destroy the lives of people whilst tucked away in a plush office. Further, this is not their story.

The perpetually drunk Jessie (Kate Kennedy), the “Michelle” of this girl group, provides the play’s comic relief – but her comedic drunkenness (alcoholism?) is ultimately tragic, with the implication being that she drowns her sorrows. Interestingly, this is never addressed directly – this seems to render it more tragic, for she is now so defined by her alcoholism that it is just who she is.

Marcello Cruz delivers a memorable performance as Oscar, a Colombian-American barman, who at first remains mostly silent, cleaning and working in the background – which seems to be Nottage addressing the “seen and not heard” nature of the Latin “help” in American society. Cruz is a fantastic actor – even when Oscar is silently listening to the others, Cruz watches and responds thoughtfully. I found myself watching him at times (it helps that he is easy on the eyes…).

Oscar is repeatedly otherised and spoken about as if he is a fresh-off-the-boat immigrant when he was actually born and bred in the USA. When Tracey finds out that he is American, she moves the goalpost, telling him that her family has been in the town since the 1920s. But who was there before that? Tracey is oblivious – or perhaps she just does not care.

The cast is completed by Aaron Cobham as Evan (the boys’ firm but caring parole officer), Jonathan Kerrigan as Stan (the friendly owner of the bar where most the action takes place), and Chris Jack as Brucie (Cynthia’s drug-addicted ex-husband and Chris’ dad). All are wonderfully characterised. Evan is a very small part but Cobham makes the most of it, and his reaction to Jason calling him the N-word is fantastic.

The play explores some really interesting ideas, most noticeably, how economic problems not only cause rifts between classes but also within them (including racial rifts – we often see ourselves as belonging to groups but there are always subgroups and divisions).

The racial rift in the working class is especially noticeable when people of colour find their positions improving, which can create animosity, jealousy and bitterness amongst working-class White folk.

But for a Pulitzer Prize-winning play, one expects more. The writing is not quite groundbreaking, nor is the direction. In fact, the only time this specific production “moves” is when it spins slowly on a revolve, with the odd spark from above. Lewis does well to create a desolate space starved of both finances and affection – perhaps too well: it can feel a bit barren at times.

Such a slow, long play needs more exciting direction and design to truly come alive. The script offers directors a lot of meat to play around with, but this iteration moves too slowly to ever sweat.

Sweat runs at the Royal Exchange Theatre until May 25.

Photo: © Helen Murray