REVIEW: Chicken & Biscuits (NextStop Theatre)
Shortly upon being introduced in NextStop’s Chicken & Biscuits, the character of Kenny says something to the degree of “Black funerals always end up as a party.”
Truer words haven’t been spoken (in my experience). In fact, all of the funerals I’ve been to have evolved into a spirited fiesta about the joys of life and the sense of having better loved and lost than never at all. It’s a great thing to watch communities bond over a shared grief, helping them heal collectively.
Such mechanisms are explored, albeit shallowly, in Biscuits, now running through April 6th. But where it lacks in narrative depth, it makes up for in several other ways.
Book
A sprawling-yet-close-knit Black family has found themselves in New Haven: the patriarch and pastor of their hometown congregation, Bee, has passed. His replacement — and son-in-law— is now set to deliver his first sermon in the role as he eulogizes him, with the support of his wife Baneatta. As the rest of the group arrives, there’s rich backstories that develop: single mom hairdresser Beverly, sister to Baneatta, and her rambunctious 16-in-three-weeks year-old daughter La’Trice fly in from Atlanta; Baneatta’s distant daughter, resurfacing after some time spent low-key and with secrets of her own; and her son, Kenny, arriving from New York with his (Jewish) boyfriend in tow, to her chagrin. The humor plays it safe: there’s nothing particularly over-the-top, nor does it relies on tired tropes a-la Tyler Perry that simply aren’t funny anymore (since it’s not 2005). But this just means that Douglas Lyons’ book could stand to take more risks to assert itself as a unique piece of media. In fact, Biscuits is often reminiscent of Fat Ham in the entertainment of the central family dynamic, but avoids taking directions that made that one so riveting. In fact, it’s so timid that it seems to avoid the one stamp at the end of a narrative work: the resolution of the romantic subplot. When it is built up as a big, satisfactory hurrah, it…doesn’t happen. Annoyingly, it lingers without being addressed. (And given which characters it applies to, that’s something that would have been nice to see.) 5/10
Acting
A lovely ensemble brings a healthy dose of vitality to the service. There’s effortless chemistry between all of the performers, as if they all have been through this before (with each other). There’s the booming, spiritual authority from DeJeanette Horne’s Reginald, the pastor; the vulnerably snappy Simone from Sirra Faal; and a hysterical one-two dynamic from Brianna Nobles and Amari Chambers as Beverly and her daughter La’Trice, respectively. A rich source of humor in Black media is always the odd-one-out character, the (usually white) one with whom many audiences can relate to as an empathetic source of othering: here, the role is Larry, played by Ben Ribler with hilarious effect. (It’s a shame he and the joyfully charismatic Ira F. Coats, Jr [Kenny] don’t get more stage time.) 9/10
Production
What’s there to hide, guys? Jack Golden presumably worked very hard at designing a stylish wood-and-granite framed chapel, and yet it is obscured by the curtain for a good two-thirds of the show. The times spent in the church set are great though, as it’s where most of the action unfolds during the climax. It’s where some of the funniest moments happen, too, thanks to sound designer Janice Rivera and her backing “Amazing Grace” remix. 8/10
Viz
Though the plain red curtain that greets the audience upon entering isn’t much to surmise from, the title and pie-themed program wordmark should be enough to clue you into the good-natured Southern* vibes you’re about to eat up. 7/10
*Okay, it’s set in New Haven, but these traditions certainly are not Connecticutty in origin.
Verdict
Chicken & Biscuits isn’t exactly a breath of fresh air — but it’s a cautiously well-done family sitcom about coming together, united in grief. 29/40
