For some lengthy time before the Black Lives Matter movement, James Baldwin employed his furious eloquence to advise America of the extent to which black lives do and must matter in a too often racist society. As a result, if Baldwin can’t be recognized as the movement’s spiritual founder, he certainly qualifies as one of them.
That position explains why Baldwin is having an intriguing onstage resurgence as the United States remains the divided states, during a time when declaring the country a white Christian enclave is urged by a (growing?) contingent.
Where’s Baldwin to be seen and heard? A few months back at the Vineyard, The Commissary presented Lessons in Survival: 1971, depicting a conversation Baldwin had with Nikki Giovanni on the television show Soul! Only weeks before, the non-profit american vicarious company started their currently ongoing tour of Debate: Baldwin vs Buckley, an event that took place February 18, 1965 on the Cambridge University campus, as sponsored by the Cambridge Union.
[Read Sandy MacDonald’s ★★☆☆☆ review here.]
Now the Public is bringing on Baldwin & Buckley at Cambridge, another replication of the confrontation, further underlining the need for today’s audiences to hear Baldwin’s voice — as well as Buckley’s — to speak on a racism issue that may not be quite as troubled as it was 57 years ago but surely remains far from resolved.
The 60-minute debate — occurring on a set (with “dots” as scenic consultant) featuring two chairs and two tables with short lecterns – takes as it’s subject “Has the American Dream Been Achieved at the Expense of the American Negro?” The format has two opposing Cambridge debaters, Mr. Heycock (Gavin Price some performances, Matthew Russell others) and Mr. Burford (Christopher-Rashee Stevenson), briefly preceding Baldwin (Greig Sargeant) and Buckley (Ben Jalosa Williams).
These debate results are a mixed bag. It’s Sargeant as Baldwin who scores heaviest. The win is due in large part to his merely speaking Baldwin’s words. In the allotted 20 minutes or so, the Fire Next Time author cogently and economically presents the prevailing facts and emotions of the time, not least persuasively when he notes that Blacks are regularly asked to pledge allegiance to a flag that demonstrates limited allegiance to them.
What Sargeant doesn’t do is a Baldwin imitation, while nonetheless embodying the reluctant patriot extremely well. Resembling Baldwin somewhat, he retains the controlled body language and the precise speech. He affects no English accent, which wouldn’t need mentioning if Buckley hadn’t accused Baldwin of just that, couching the jibe in Buckley’s particular brand of offhand humor.
Like Sargeant, Williams doesn’t choose to imitate speech patterns, either. Those in the audience who remember Buckley from his weekly Firing Line series will remember that he’d perfected his own stylishly languid way of shaping his often-adversarial comments. Occasionally, however, Williams does dip into the Buckley trope often described as reptilian– and though now a cliché, still applicable.
He’s keenly effective while gliding about, playing to the crowd, while getting laughs with, for instance, Buckley’s lubricious crack about not so much encouraging Black Mississippi voters to exercise their civil right to vote as discouraging the state’s white voters from exercising theirs.
All the while, Buckley’s debate approach is unlike Baldwin’s, and Williams gets it nicely. Whereas Baldwin unleashes unadulterated statements of truths about topics like the frequent trivialization of Black history – Buckley’s is that of a seasoned debater trained to deliver either the assigned debate’s pro or con; this outing he was handed con.
The introductory Heycock and Burford appearances have less to recommend them. It may be that in assuring spectators that the debate is as meaningful today as it was then, director John Collins – his Elevator Repair Service co-produces the work – has decided to do a bit of modernizing.
He suggests as much in his program remarks.
Perhaps that’s why the Heycock and Burford characters arrive looking nothing like the 1965 Cambridge debaters, who dressed for an occasion requiring contained dignity. The actors wear clothes that look as if they’re wearing whatever they’d put on for hanging around the house. (Jessica Jahn is the costumer.) More unsettling, throughout Burford’s speech, Stevenson indulges in look-at-me histrionics that couldn’t be more out of place.
Why couldn’t the ERS, and Sargeant, who co-conceived the piece, allow audience members to see the debate’s relevance to 2022 (and beyond?) for themselves? Aren’t Public audiences deserving of that respect?
But wait, there’s more! When the votes in Baldwin’s favor have been announced and Cambridge attendees are dismissed, Alan C. Edwards’ lights fade on all but Baldwin. Then they unfade, and Daphne Gaines is discovered on a nearby sofa reading a newspaper as Lorraine Hansberry.
She’s there to have a chat with Baldwin about troubled race relations. Yes, the two were friends, but the little they get to say to each other doesn’t add up to much. Then, before you can know it, they’re no longer Baldwin and Hansberry but are Sargeant and Gaines talking about themselves.
This silliness is reported only because it happens. Better to recall that the memorable Cambridge debate also happened and is importantly remembered here in only slightly compromised form.
(N.B.: The actual debate is available on YouTube, as is the Baldwin-Giovanni exchange.)
Baldwin and Buckley at Cambridge opened October 2, 2022, at the Public Theater and runs through October 23. Tickets and information: publictheater.org
