Theater Review: If Pretty Hurts, Ugly Must Be A Muhf**ka
Separation is never equal, in part, because humanity judges difference according to like. You separate the peas from the carrots because you like them better. You go to the express lane versus the regular one because you like going quicker. You separate what you think is ugly from what you think is beautiful to give the latter better treatment. In If Pretty Hurts Ugly Must Be a Muhfucka, Akim (Níke Uche Kadri) may be separated because of her beauty, but it is Massassi (Antoinette Crowe-Legacy) whom is distanced.
Written by Tori Sampson, If Pretty Hurts Ugly Must Be a Muhfucka has some enlightening verses that strike you like nature itself. Yet, one line stood out to me as the quintessential definition of a hater: “If I can’t destroy you, I most certainly am not going to nourish you.” In a world that wants to believe hate can become love but is realizing “centrist” might be another word for “cop-out,” the line stood out as a solid truth. There are those that WILL NEVER want the happiness of others because their joy is literally defined by surrounding misery. Moreover, there are those that will never be satisfied with what they have, which is why they need others to have less. For instance, Massassi is praised for her body and sensuality, but she wants to be adored as a pure beauty, which is why she cannot be happy with Akim’s existence.
Legacy gives Massassi a crackling vulnerability that shuffles beneath her image as “The Body.” No man can deny her curvatures in the same way no man can deny Akim’s beauty; both women being used for the carnal, superfluous pleasures of the charming Kasim (Leland Fowler). While both young ladies shared the truth of being defined by how they can be used physically rather than how they move spiritually, Massassi chooses to make Akim her mortal enemy instead of blaming those that diminish her, i.e. the boys. As the play transgresses, Sampson’s observance of human interaction is BRILLIANT because she pinpoints one extremely negative approach every person is guilty of: searching for others flaws to validate both our strengths and the worth of relationship.
If knowing everyone suffers and struggles was truly the key to uniting humanity, then we would all be glued together. Flaws do not unite people as see by Massassi and her best friends. Mirirai Sithole is quietly noble as Adama; a young woman whom is also jealous of Akim, but is more willing, than her friends, to be genuinely kind to her. Meanwhile, Phumzile Sithole is as smart and quick-witted as Kaya; solidifying a presence in the play that brings an instant smile. The three girls unite to figure out what is wrong with Akim; initially, using this search as a method of igniting friendship. For them Akim HAD to say she was flawed to be accepted, but Kadri gives this character a sparkling intelligence and innocent boldness. She will not admit she is flawed because she is not, and, even if she was, why should she. This was a fierce response to a bad move:
1) If to feel better you need others to feel worse then you will never be good. To measure your best according to others incapacities cuts you from truly discovering and experiencing it.
2) By not telling or having flaws, Akim, inadvertently, launched their campaign to give her one. These three gals NEEDED her to be ugly so as to feel beautiful and powerful like, Cain versus Abel.
For nearly two hours, with no intermission, you watch as the three girls turn innocent ploys into deadly plots just to make Akim pay for what she could not help: being born beautiful. Their journeys are layered with commentary over privilege, underprivileged, and how both can mistreat each other by basing their interactions with one other on materiality. Still, if anyone asks you to show your weakness to build a bond, then they are not worth or willing to have a strong connection. None of these ladies tried to see or reach for each other’s heart; riding emotional waves that only stirred if boys looked at them and winked.
It is clear Sanford, Marcus, and Sampson wanted to show the human pitfalls of training an entire community, i.e. women, to only define themselves according to how men love their physique. We are souls; something that is also reminded through the majestic scenic design of Louisa Thompson, the stunning voice of Carla R. Stewart as River, and the guiding humor of Rotimi Agbabiaka’s Chorus. Altogether, this play is one about the human heart and how it got lost through things as superficial as skin. If Pretty Hurts Ugly Must Be a Muhfucka Plays At Playwrights Horizons until March 31, and it is phenomenal! Buy Tickets Here. Located: 416 W. 42nd St.
