Saturday I saw The Bluest Eye - Toni Morrison's novel turned play. All I can say is wow - well, that's not all I can say but it's night time and I'm not a night time writer and I worry that if I wait until morning this will never get done - so wow it is.

First off I had mixed expectations for the play, which is running at Theater Alliance until the 19th of November, for two reasons: 1. You never know what you're going to get when go to the small theater. 2. Beloved. What this means is Morrison's work can be hella-hard to interpret, never mind adapt. 

So here's the set up... The room is rectangular -- the stage - the center of the floor. And we, the audience, are the long sides  of the rectangle. This means that both sides of the floor-stage are made up of the audience's mostly brown faces. The short sides of the rectangle are two walls plastered with the alabaster faces of heavy lashed "beautiful" women with eyes that are light and pupils that are black. And this is how we, the brown hued audience and the white women, boxed in the stage that was the floor.

And the play begun with a cacophony of sound and motion and movement and harmony and stuff. I was sucked in and wondered if Morrison knew she was penning a stage play when she wrote the novel all those years ago. I was surprised because the actors acted out much of the narrative and it worked. There was one moment when I was pulled out of the play - that was when Cholly played by Jeorge Watson made his entrance in gray long underwear. Oh-my-god! I looked close and then closer trying to figure out if "it" was a prop. Now the expression on my face was blank - I didn't want anyone to think I was having impure thoughts - my mind could not possibly be in Pecola's dirt laden flower pot while everyone else was so engrossed in the story unfolding before them - then Angelica (my play-going friend) elbowed me. What a relief to know I was not the only one momentarily distracted.

And I have to admit I watched "Cholly" the entire time he was on the stage in those indecent underwear. Even as he was beating down his wife - I watched the motion of "it" - I mean... uh, you had to be there.

This play was really really good - the actors were on point and there was the cutest bed scene with Pecola (Carleen Troy), Frieda (Jessica Frances Dukes), and Claudia (Erika Rose).  After the play we got autographs from the cast and Lia LaCour who played Maureen Peel/White Girl (that's the way it's written in the program) talked with us for a good minute about the intricacies that went into making the play. Let me say that the movement of the play was very rhythmic and lyrical much like Morrison's writing. I mean they had to have he timing of the sewing (scene) and Lemonade drinking (scene) down. It was really beautiful to watch.

Oh and if you go see it - you must stay around to see the transformation of Pecola back to Carleen. That girl deserves a Tony (are Tonys for plays). I mean, she made Pecola so real I even wondered if she had a hunch in her back for real (she doesn't - and she's a diva [the good diva]).

Hats off to both the director David Muse and Lydia Diamond who adapted the novel. I am going to see this play again and maybe the second time around I won't be so distracted by Cholly's "cholly".