Playwright Dominique Morisseau has a strong connection to her roots. Her Detroit upbringing is prominently featured throughout her work; most notably, her Tony-nominated libretto for the Broadway musical Ain’t Too Proud about the legendary Detroit-based Temptations. And now her Haitian bloodline is front and center with her latest, Bad Kreyòl. Notice the spelling which Americans know as “Creole”. It’s the language spoken in Haiti and central to Morisseau’s premise for this beautifully crafted production.
In the program notes she writes “To love a people is to learn their language.” She obviously means that literally but also metaphorically because so much of what separates cultures is their failure to communicate. And in Bad Kreyòl, two English speaking cousins – one raised in Haiti, the other in America – find themselves hopelessly divided by a language barrier borne of their vastly different experiences growing up worlds apart.
The story begins as Simone (Kelly McCreary) arrives in Haiti from the states to stay with her cousin Gigi (Pascale Armand) who owns a boutique in Port-au-Prince. Their families were well connected which enabled Gigi to identify as upper class in the largely impoverished country.
[Read Melissa Rose Bernardo’s ★★★★☆ review here.]
They’re attempting to honor their Haitian grandmother’s dying wish that they rekindle their relationship after living far apart for so many years. But immediately, communication between them is strained as Simone fails to understand the relationship Gigi has with Pita (Jude Tibeau), who lives and works at the shop. As a child he was given to Gigi’s family after his own family feared for his safety during the reign of the brutal dictator Baby Doc. Simone bristles at the thought that he’s basically an indentured servant, but Gigi regards Pita as a family member. Pita likens their relationship to “an old married couple without the burden of sex”.
One of the highlights of Morisseau’s writing is the effective use of organic humor which serves to humanize the characters as they encounter the absurdities of life in the nation plagued by all manner of violence. It comes in many forms: political, environmental, social – and of course “actual” amid stories of mobs of vigilantes seeming to roam unhindered by any laws. Pita is gay, and in Haiti where LGBTQ individuals have no legal protections, he is a target of the gangs.
Given Simone’s liberal American upbringing, she advises Pita to assert his sexual identity, telling him that he needs to find his “affinity space”. It’s a laugh line but also a revealing one illustrating how out-of-touch she is in a country where such talk can get a person killed.
Gigi tries to explain that in Haiti, amid its history of slavery, colonization, corrupt regimes, earthquakes and abject poverty, “we come from people who make their own rules.”
The play covers a lot of ground detailing the dark side of well-intentioned American NGOs (nongovernmental organizations), the constancy of corruption; and tragically, the prevalence of prostitution where so many young women are forced to become “sex workers” to survive.
One such character named Lovelie (Fedna Jacquet) attempts to break free from her desperate past by hand stitching pillows for sale to tourists. Simone is determined to help her, asking Gigi to consider selling the pillows at her shop. But despite all their best efforts, everyone is exploited one way or another. It’s a fact of life in Haiti.
Morisseau offers a hopeful vision. And it’s the intimate moments when the characters open their hearts and souls to one another that give this wonderfully insightful play its unique flavor. Their appreciation of local cuisine, the music and the dancing keep them going day to day.
Director Tiffany Nichole Greene hones in on all of it – the good, the bad and the ugly – with fine precision. There is not a wasted moment in this two-plus-hour production as it careens back and forth from pain to joy; and thanks to the pitch-perfect performances, we can empathize. In fact, the playwright welcomes it, encouraging the audience to respond out loud if the mood strikes.
The entire cast, with the exception of Kelly McCreary as Simone, is Haitian. It’s a huge plus, providing an extra layer of truth to the performances. The creole accents are so strong at times we miss some of the dialogue but it adds to the authenticity of the piece.
Pascale Armand portrays Gigi with an array of vibrant colors, painting her as a no-nonsense woman who’s had to negotiate every step of the way in her young life. A terrific actor, she embodies the role so completely, the audience hangs on every word and gesture.
She’s gifted with some gorgeous designs from costumer Haydee Zelideth who clearly understands the way clothes can define a personality.
Jude Tibeau’s Pita also stands out. As a gay man having to navigate so many obstacles, he puts on a brave face, concealing his struggles with a wry sense of humor. It’s a bravura performance which he delivers with tremendous pathos.
As Simone, McCreary deserves high praise as well. Coming from the states where she’s blessed with so much more freedom than her Haitian cousin, she finds it can also be a curse. She’s at sea in her life unable to plot a clear direction and she’s come to Haiti seeking a lifeline but she just can’t bridge the cultural gap. She maneuvers the role with great subtlety even when forced to deliver clunky exposition by describing her frustrations to unknown parties on her phone. It’s a contrivance that the play could do without.
One other huge plus is the highly functional rotating set design by Jason Sherwood with its three distinct playing areas. Viscerally appealing, it seamlessly establishes a very specific sense of time and place.
As much as Bad Kreyòl takes place in Haiti, it says almost as much about the American experience. We may be relatively fortunate to live in a country that gives us the freedom to openly pursue our dreams for the most part. But too many dreams are shattered by people refusing to learn the “language” of others. When one of Morisseau’s characters astutely points out Haiti’s problem is not a “nation thing,” it’s a “bad people thing,” that should stand as a warning to us all.
Bad Kreyòl opened October 28, 2024, at Signature Center and runs through December 1. Tickets and information: signaturetheatre.org
