- FileJean Small, left, the prosecuting attorney, Andrew Brodber, centre, a white slaveowner, Amina Blackwood Meeks, right, defence attorney, and Khadija Fudail, on platform, in a court scene in the play, 'The Trial'.
Amina Blackwood-Meeks, Contributor
ONE OF Lloyd Reckord's favourite anecdotes is of a man who, on storming out of one of his productions, hurled at everyone and no-one in particular, "Me nuh come yah fe tink, me come yah fe laugh".
The tricky thing about that is, unless you think, you won't get the joke.
I believe Lloyd would make a distinction between the joke and the punchline, pointing to the latter as the one requiring less thought or less investigation, and the one also you are more likely to forget.
Very often, it is the seriousness of the joke which causes it to linger. And maybe, it is because Lloyd "doan joke wid seriousness" at the same time as he enjoys a good laugh, that his productions over the years, through the National Theatre Trust, have been so memorable for cast, crew and audiences alike.
Lloyd consistently invites his audiences to come to think and enjoy the things they think about: think about theatre as education, as serious business, as a place where you perhaps become acquainted with ideas and issues which might otherwise not cross your mind. His latest production, The Trial of One Short-Sighted Black Woman vs Mammy Louise and Safreeta Mae raises some serious issues for me. Among them this: Are there stories which can only be told as art? The story of the African-American as experienced by the African-American woman is perhaps one such story. The Trial raises uncomfortable truths about the limitations on personal freedoms in the land of the free and the brave, about gross inequalities in a land where "We hold these truths to be self-evident...", about manipulations and injustices in the land of justice for all. And on top of that, it raises these issues within the context of their historical genesis.
Who wants to talk about these things? Who wants to talk about the evils and the legacy of slavery? Maybe few people. But maybe more will participate in the discussion if it is set within the frame of a brilliant script, by an award-winning playwright, directed by a man who is known for his commitment to excellence in the theatre and features some of Jamaica's best talent on stage and backstage. Maybe sometimes, we need the safe distance of "art" to provoke us about how we really feel.
An exploration of art
In once again producing life as art and the need to investigate as craft, Lloyd forces first, the fraternity of actors to "come yah to think" about the role and responsibility of artistes to human and social development. What is the purpose of the art form? Where and when should be the emphasis among the range of choices which include to entertain, motivate, instruct, persuade, reflect and comment. On what issues do we invite laughter, tears, approval, protest, concern? And then, he raises issues for the non-acting participants such as, what is the value of that which you have seen and enjoyed, what do you do with it, how do you share it?
In the perfect order of the universe, The Trial coincides with the cultural conference at the UWI, Mona, which, among other things, focuses on issues relating to the quest of black people for identity and self-love and the ways in which this quest is reflected in the works of art which we produce. In the 21st century, this quest is also played out in the media, in gender relations and gender issues, in the manipulation of economic systems and structures and a belief in the "unchangeable". Issues which it seems impossible that any generation will come to terms with in its lifetime. And yet they are issues which they must come to terms with, at some level, so that succeeding generations have more of a foundation on which to advance the business of constructing identity.
Jamaicanised
The Trial, though written by an American about the American dream, or the thwarting of the American dream for at least one woman, is very Jamaican, even if it had not been Jamaicanised. Marcia Leslie, the playwright, must have lived here and learned how to "tek kin teet an cover heart bun". It is so cleverly woven that sometimes you might stop yourself mid-guffaw to ask yourself if you really should be laughing. There's a thought. Her sense of humour reverberates with Bob Marley's exhortation that whatever else we do with our troubles we can "dance". It is the irony and the humour you get from Bill Cosby, for whose shows Ms. Leslie has also written. That's just in case you want to know what kind of humour to expect.
The Trial, written in 1998 and voted Most Outstanding Play at the National Black Theatre Festival in 1999, is now playing at the Barn Theatre in Kingston, Jamaica. See it, as good Jamaican theatre. But see it also as a piece for the classroom, as a panel discussion on gender issues or the role of the media. See it as part of the theatre tradition to present us with some aspect of the human experience while calling upon our collective creativity to bring new insights and new understanding to said experience. And see it because ultimately, although it enlightens us about a situation which is not exactly our own, though not entirely unlike our own either, its call for each human being to be responsible, to be accountable for the choices they make and how those choices affect others, is precisely our own as we struggle with how to find a better way of being in this 21st century, right here in Jamaica. Come and laugh. It will leave you thinking.
