Slight spoiler alert: Fat Ham, James Ijames’ clever contemporary queer take on Hamlet, is not a tragedy. We hope the playwright will forgive us for revealing that his version, now on Broadway after a sellout 2022 off-Broadway run—doesn’t end with all those deaths via stabbing, poison, and/or drowning. We won’t tell you exactly how it concludes, other than to say that it involves sequins. And something that might make Florida republicans very nervous.
No show that features Teena Marie’s 1981 funk anthem “Square Biz” and Crystal Waters’ 1994 dance-pop hit “100% Pure Love” could ever be classified as a total downer, even if it is inspired by Shakespeare’s most famous tragedy. (Fun fact: Teena Marie name-checks Shakespeare in “Square Biz.”) But you needn’t know anything about the soliloquy-spouting depressive Dane to appreciate Fat Ham.
If you are familiar with Hamlet, you’ll notice Ijames’ crafty character and plot references: a recently deceased man, Pap (Billy Eugene Jones), whose wife, Tedra (Nikki Crawford), very quickly weds the aforementioned dead hubby’s brother, Rev (also Billy Eugene Jones). Pap appears as a ghost to his son, Juicy (Marcel Spears), inciting thoughts of revenge. Ijames seamlessly weaves in monologues—e.g., “What a piece of work is man…”—and famous lines (naturally, “there’s the rub” pops up while discussing pork ribs). Juicy and his pal Tio (Chris Herbie Holland) even chat about a guy they once knew called Yorick.
[Read Roma Torre’s ★★★★★ review here.]
And if you’re not a Hamlet superfan, Fat Ham is simply a play about a young gay man, Juicy, who’s having trouble reconciling the loss of his mean-as-a-snake dad and with the acquisition of a possibly even-meaner stepdad. During his backyard barbecue wedding party, pitmaster Rev sneers and calls him “soft,” and a “pocket of nothing,” not long before sucker-punching him in the gut. Former pitmaster Pap—Rev has usurped not only his woman but also his smoker—materializes as a ghost ostensibly to ask Juicy to avenge his death. Or is it to criticize his eating habits and call him a “pansy” and “girly ass puddle of spit”? (Jones, incidentally, makes a meal of both roles.) We should all listen to momma Tedra, who can boost anyone’s self-esteem, proudly telling her “baby” that he’s “thicc”: “A Thickums. A Yum Yums. Thicker than a bowl of oatmeal. Boooooody.… Baby, people paying good money for an ass like that?”
The entire Public Theater–National Black Theater off-Broadway cast—including Adriana Mitchell as the headstrong Opal, Calvin Leon Smith as secretive soldier Larry, and Benja Kay Thomas as their overbearing but loving mom Rabby (stand-ins for Ophelia, Laertes, and Polonius, respectively)—has made the move uptown, and the ensemble is as fabulous as ever. Spears’ performance as the self-described “empath” Juicy is painted with delicate—one might even say soft—brushstrokes, but the details reach even the rear orchestra. His despondent rendition of Radiohead’s “Creep”—a party-killing karaoke choice if ever there was one—is darker (literally and figuratively) and more dramatic; the lyrics (“I want a perfect body/ I want a perfect soul”; “What the hell am I doin’ here?/ I don’t belong here”) are Juicy’s cri de coeur.
And speaking of karaoke, Crawford’s booty-shaking, R-rated, twerk-filled performance of “100% Pure Love” now gets the stage space it deserves. (Is Tedra really making Juicy sing the “I want your love, I want it tonight” part as she gyrates in front of his uncle-slash-stepdad? Awkward!) Credit director Saheem Ali—who’s making his Broadway debut, as are five of the actors—for keeping the 95-minute play tight in the transition from an intimate 275-seat theater to a 700-plus-seat house. It’s not just about ensuring that the jokes land, which they do; it’s also about the subtler moments. “I want to lay my head in your lap,” Larry tells Juicy. When Hamlet tries that on Ophelia (“Lady, shall I lie in your lap?”), he’s going for laughs and sexual innuendo. Between Larry and Juicy, there’s genuine tenderness, and maybe even more.
Fat Ham opened April 12, 2023, at the American Airlines Theatre and runs through June 25. Tickets and information: fathambroadway.com
