Theatre Review: Chicken & Biscuits Is Buttered With Comedy
Family Reunions are filled with the most impactful memories we will ever gain. Between hilarity and harm, seeing ALL of your family, at once, leads you to fun-filled existential crisis because, whether you like them or not, you are blood. For most families, “blood” is like spiritual super glue, but who does not have a cousin, auntie, or even brother you wish could be removed from the sticky nucleus? In Chicken & Biscuits, located at Circle in the Square Theatre on 1633 Broadway, New York, NY 10019, people will LAUGH at seeing family come together to realize just how far apart they have been.
When patriarch B dies, the Mabry family unites to mourn the one person that accepted and loved them all, as they were, when they still cannot do that for themselves. Matriarch/ B’s daughter Baneatta (Cleo King) is the emblem of “stiff grace,” a woman that defines elegance and spiritual righteousness through being judgmental and unemotional. Her daughter, Simone (Alana Raquel Bowers), tries to follow suit, but a bad break-up with her, apparently, “ugly ex” makes her a walking, ticking bomb for a potential breakdown. The problem is she has pushed away the few people that would understand her pain, like her brother Kenny (Devere Isaac Rogers) and his boyfriend, Michael Urie as Logan/Lucas/Larry or whatever L name the family will toss at him to ignore he is a white man and also the love of Kenny’s life. Yet, auntie Beverly (Ebony Marshall-Oliver) and her daughter La-Trice (Aigner Mizzelle) are ready to bring some level of brevity between Tidal mixtapes and golden dresses with EXCELLENT push-up bras. Moreover, the cool-headed pastor/ new patriarch, Norm Lewis’ Reginald, is able to serve up a testimony that pacifies the family secret ready to erupt in the form of the very sweet.
What I most liked about Douglas Lyons’ script is that it showed a problem most families have, especially if they come from a people’s that has historically and presently been traumatized: we never drop our masks. So often, we are told to have our “chin up” and ignore the pains we cause each other, in addition, to the ones systemically caused. Yet, Chicken & Biscuits goes through the three traumas that makes us wonder when do you get relief? Those traumas are the ones caused by the world towards your community, the ones your community causes towards you, and the ones you cause towards yourself. Whether it is your family or your societal/ social community like, your race, class, or sexuality, the point is if there are so many levels and ways to get hurt, how do you create a space away from the constant wounding? Do you fall in love with a man who is weird and white but fiercely loyal (Kenny and Logan)? Do you wait 40 years to make your presence known in a family avidly trying to hide your existence? Or do you drop a mix called Homie’s Paradise (La’Trice)? For the Mabry family, Church was their place of peace, of which it is no wonder it becomes the home of their hilarious showdown.
Directed by Zhailon Livingston, the play’s approach to generational trauma felt music like my mother’s belief that finding peace was like cleaning up your bedroom; at first, you’ll think you made more of a mess as you pull things/ feelings out of place to reorganize and find a new space for them. Yet, over time, you will start to see that they fit better in their fresh spot, that the room becomes clearer, and you feel more at home than ever. For black families, along with several communities of color, The Church/ Heaven has always been presented as the only place where so many of us that have been bound and beaten on earth would find welcome, even though The Church, historically, backed our beatings. Yet, The Church is just a place that even humans constructed, but Heaven is an idea/ state of being we can reach, and seeing Mabry’s family come to that conclusion is uproariously funny and heartwarming. Buy Tickets Here.
