On a frigid and windy Saturday night in January, we rushed into the Little Theatre of Virginia Beach with a sold out crowd full of heavy jackets, scarves, and hats topped with pom poms.  Just as our beloved UVA Cavalier basketball team was finishing off a win at Georgia Tech, the lights came down and we were immersed in another time and place entirely – that of a 1950s Chicago southside apartment, with a brick backdrop giving the fairly small, corner-ridden stage at LTVB remarkable depth for their performance of the play A Raisin in the Sun. 

The first action of the play would occur on the platform behind the apartment by that brick wall – a reciting of the poem Harlem by Langston Hughes (also known by a portion of its first line – A Dream Deferred).  This play is a perfect embodiment of that poem, as it tries to answer the question – what happens to a dream deferred?  And each character and experience throughout A Raisin in the Sun has a slightly different answer for that question, all of which are shaded, as is the poem, by a lack of equal opportunity for them as African Americans (and for some, as ambitious women in the 1950s).

Speaking of the characters – each major character in the play is a member of a single family, living as three generations within this one Chicago apartment.  Each has their own hopes and dreams, strengths and flaws.  And each has their own plans for what should be done with the life insurance proceeds that Lena “Mama” Younger, is about to receive, now that her husband and the patriarch of the household, Old Walter, has passed on.  Those individual plans and goals quickly become apparent as they wake up to what seems to be the actual smell of breakfast cooking – pretty sure that oven on stage actually works – a bold and cool choice by set designer Sandra Epperson.

Walter Lee, Lena’s son, is played with extraordinary aptitude by Clifford Clark.  Walter Lee has dreams of taking the money and investing it with some of “the guys” into a liquor store.  His journey is powerful, emotional, and full of ups and downs just over the few days we spend with the Youngers, and Clark is more than capable of bringing the audience along for that journey.  Equaling him in bringing the emotion to her part is Erika Patrick, portraying his wife, Ruth Younger.  Ruth has to balance the duties of a 1950s housewife – cooking, cleaning, and caring for her son, all while also managing her husband and his dreams.  Patrick brings so much feeling and realism to this part that your eyes are often drawn to her while she is just ironing in the corner of the stage, and she has one or two incredible moments of emotion that really stick with you.

Beneatha Younger, Walter Lee’s sister (and Lena’s only other child), is a young women in college, and she dreams of becoming a doctor, despite pressure from society and her family to take the more “realistic” path toward nursing.  This is a part of internal struggle and of finding oneself, a role taken on beautifully by Salem Rogers, who absolutely makes the audience feel that struggle with her.  Beneatha is also, as it so happens, caught between two men who she may or may not be interested in – the wealthy and educated but pompous George Murchison, played well by Ramelle Marshall, and the African transplant and idealist Joseph Asagai, played with perfect charm and grace by Sacha Marvin.  As Beneatha becomes more involved with Asagai, she starts to examine her roots, and Rogers is hilarious and perfectly imperfect as she tries out traditional African dances and tries on traditional African garb.  Rogers’ chemistry with Marvin is palpable, as is her (intentionally) not-so-strong chemistry with Marshall.

No matter anyone else’s plans with the life insurance proceeds, it is ultimately up to Lena how the money should be used.  In that pivotal role is Carla Turner, who I find is best as she tells a story of how her late husband used to look at the rug, and back at her, and back at the rug, and back at her.  Turner’s ability to paint a picture in the audience’s mind, with more than just words, but with intonation and pauses at the perfect moments, really drives this play forward as she makes her choices.  Those types of choices of silence, pause, and intonation, while being effectuated by the cast, also speak to the direction received by the cast from Sharon Cook.  Cook is able to bring the most out of her cast, while clearly having a strong vision for what she wanted this play to look like, and it absolutely hit every mark.

Part of that strong vision is also executed by the dramatic moments at the beginning and end of each act.  Cook looked to highlight those moments, and she gets a great assist from her lighting designer Derrion La’Zachan, who appears able to see Cook’s vision and then light it up on stage.  La’Zachan delivers a really well composed lighting package, as the action bounces between the poetry and small scenes at the back brick wall and the apartment in the foreground, with perfect fade-outs to be able to capture just one spotlighted moment. 

And – we’d be remiss to not point out the well-executed role of Travis Younger, played by young Terrence Patrick, Jr (who seems to have great chemistry with Erika Patrick, playing his mother Ruth – I’m not sure, but judging by last name only and their performance, I’d say this mother-son chemistry might exist in some form off-stage as well). 

Overall, this performance of A Raisin in the Sun absolutely delivered.  And, as Cook states in her note in the front of the program – while this is a story that takes place in the 1950s, it is as relevant as ever today.  It has universal themes of dreams and family disagreements, while also highlighting racism and privilege still systemic to our society.  The more we can talk about these issues, the more we can work toward a better future.  We may never be perfect, but we can always improve.  If you can get tickets, this is a show not to be missed!