Branden Jacob Jenkins’ satirical drama An Octoroon, is an adaptation of Dion Boucicault’s 1859 melodrama of the same name. Preserving much of the same dialogue, it aims to enlighten by staging the script through a 21st century lens. An Octoroon begins with BJJ the contemporary playwright, conversing with the audience, explaining his trials as an African American writer. If you are an author of color, your work will always be construed as social commentary; other intentions ignored or brushed away. BJJ often illustrates his points by sharing dialectics between himself and his female psychotherapist, a woman he reveals as a construct. This theme of illusion created for the purpose of demonstration will be repeated. BJJ paints himself in clown white, as he and the other actors don their costumes.
Once the show (within the show) commences we are introduced to Minnie and Dido, house slaves on the Plantation Terrebonne who speak in an urban African American dialect. They provide comic relief as well as contrast to the antiquated dialogue spoken by the other black characters. BJJ plays George, the kind white heir to the plantation and M’Closkey, a despicable white overseer who schemes to cheat George out of Zoe, the love of his life, and his inheritance. Dora, the wealthy white woman, sets her cap for George, but he wants to marry only Zoe. Zoe, unfortunately, is an octoroon (1/8th black) and therefore not permitted to marry a white man.
Jenkins populates Octoroon with various characters, stereotypical, ethnically diverse, sometimes blurring the distinction between myth and reduction. Wahnotee the Indian is a drunken savage, Boucicault, a butch Southern aristocrat, Dido, a modern version of Prissy and Br’er Rabbit, Br’er Rabbit. Color-blind and multiple casting is used to great effect, evincing the conflict between honoring ethnic diversity and ignoring it.
Octoroon may be primarily an intellectual, rather than visceral experience. The play (within the play) deals exclusively in caricatures, the punchline being that Boucicault was denouncing slavery and racism, in the best way he knew how. He may have been enlightened for his time, but the diminished depiction of people of color nearly eclipses his best intentions. We get the upshot, but the 1859 melodrama feels like a debacle to us, in the 21st Century. It’s not easy to grasp the practical application. The cartoony slant on characters makes them ludicrous, but the lack of empathy makes that sad. We can’t laugh, we can’t cry. What’s the take away?
At the risk of speculating I wonder if the possible impetus for the play (rage, frustration, indignation) is too far removed from the result. Jenkins creates a series of baffles, building tension between content and execution. We see the actors in and out of character. We see ridiculously unconvincing costumes, very much in keeping with Octoroon’s milieu. The show we witness takes some trouble to remind us of its artifices and the effect is intriguing, if not altogether emotional.
Stage West presents An Octoroon, playing August – September 30th, 2018. 821 West Vickery Blvd, Fort Worth, Texas 76104. (817) 784-9378. www.stagewest.org