InterAct Theatre Company presents Mary Tuomanen's 'MARCUS/EMMA'

Tuomanen throws them together in some sort of dark red purgatory, designed by Sara Outing, and Maria Shaplin bathes the audience in red light, trapping us with them. Goldman, played by Susan Riley Stevens, presents her list of demands. Though dressed in period clothes by Sydney Marseca, she speaks in modern style: "Get pumped to start a revolution," she insists, urging us to rise up. But we don't. She's not talking to us; we're watching her excoriate a different audience. Garvey, played by Akeem Davis, starts with a rambling monologue about his ventures, particularly the Black Star Line, with which he'll transport black Americans "back to Africa."

Where are they, and why do they stay?

The situation's lack of context, however, makes most of its 90 minutes frustratingly vague. Where they are, why they're together, and what they hope to accomplish never becomes clear. Their banter doesn't inform us about their lives or the times in which they they live, and explains their political and social positions in general terms. Much of the play is a repetitive game of flinging slogans at each other. Garvey says he's the president of Africa, which Emma mocks.

"Everything in Africa is sexy and better," Garvey insists.

"You just can't stand the idea that this isn't about racism," Emma jabs.

Being nowhere and no-when means there are no stakes. Why not just leave? Perhaps they're trapped, like the souls in Jean Paul Sartre's No Exit -- although, in that play, at least we finally understand. When we find out, near the end of MARCUS/EMMA, that this might be all a shared dream during Garvey's last days in London and Goldman's in Toronto (they died less than a month apart), that relative concreteness and their brief ruminations about their lives' work result in the play's most compelling moments. Finally, they're people we can care about.

Sex talk

Emma propositions Marcus. "You can't suppress this raw sex power," she crows. "Let's fuck!" The come-on builds to some nudity and several puzzlingly chaste encounters, as if director Rebecca Wright nervously fast-forwarded past any actual passion. Tuomanen's first title was Marcus Garvey and Emma Goldman Have Hot Hot Sex, which is more lurid than MARCUS/EMMA but also inaccurate. Emma, particularly, talks like a Hollywood screenwriter's idea of a horny teenager (Marcus, she purrs, has "spectacular fuck potential"), but between them there's no actual heat.

When Emma discovers "how to make my labia into a puppet" (no, we don’t see it), the moment feels desperate. Likewise when Marcus builds a wall with table and chairs to block Emma from his area. Their childish squabbles mean nothing, especially when eclipsed by real moments like Garvey's harrowing and defiant description of white patrons' shocked stares when he dines at the Plaza.

Goldman and Garvey's political concerns – women's rights, racial equality, the evils of capitalism – still matter, and I applaud Tuomanen and InterAct for seeking to inspire through two underappreciated historical figures who are undeniably relevant today. MARCUS/EMMA, however, incites more disappointment than passion.

To hear Darnelle Radford's podcast interview with Davis and Stevens, click here.