People’s Light presents Lorraine Hansberry’s A Raisin the Sun

Raisin still resonates on a deep level nearly 70 years after its debut, as seen in the entertaining but uneven production directed here by Steve H. Broadnax III. Despite Hansberry’s undeniable brilliance, she was still a young writer when she penned this tale of the Younger family’s complex attempt at middle-class stability, and the work betrays some follies of youth.

A chasm in the family

Hansberry jams a lot of action into the play’s three-plus hours, which occasionally sag here due to somewhat slack pacing. The familiar plot revolves around the best way to utilize a legacy: after the Younger family patriarch Big Walter dies, his widow and son clash on the proper use of his life insurance policy. Matriarch Lena (Melanye Finister) wants to move her clan from the South Side of Chicago to a comfortable suburban home, while Walter Lee (Eric B. Robinson Jr.) sees the windfall as his opportunity to go into business for himself.

This divergence opens up a chasm in the family, which includes Walter Lee’s practical wife Ruth (Candace Thomas), idealistic sister Beneatha (Morgan Charéce Hall), and ten-year-old son Travis (Kristopher King Clark at the reviewed performance, alternating with Prince Peay). They also contend with outside forces bent on deferring their dream: Clybourne Park, the suburb where Lena endeavors to move, would prefer to remain an all-white enclave, as community representative Karl Lindner (Todd Lawson) explains in barely hidden terms.

Balancing personal and societal problems

As the story moves fluidly between personal and societal ills, so too does the style. Raisin balances kitchen-sink realism, broad comedy, and ornate tragedy in ways that can sometimes feel hard to reconcile. I’ve seen previous productions that privileged one element as a means to foster tonal stability: Kenny Leon’s 2014 Broadway revival leaned into the human drama, whereas Robert O’Hara’s galvanic staging at the 2019 Williamstown Theatre Festival bordered on irreverence.

Broadnax doesn’t try to stitch the play into a seamless garment. He allows all the elements to exist simultaneously, with variable results. The majority of the cast seem most comfortable performing a style of low-key realism, so moments that consider the blood-deep bond between the Youngers land with the sharpest effect. Scenes that sometimes come across as comic relief—like the interactions between Beneatha and her two college suitors, preening rich-kid George Murchison (Jalen Coleman) and revolution-minded Joseph Asagai (Nayib Felix)—stop the production in its tracks. A jarring visual moment meant to reinforce the racism of the era, which I won’t reveal here, lacks the shock factor it seeks to engender.

A fine cast featuring Finister

People’s Light mounted this production for Finister, one of its longest-tenured company members, and her performance deserves to be seen. (Finister played Beneatha in a previous revival in her early days with the ensemble.) Her Lena is formidable but gentle, a mother who views the advancement of her children as her ultimate dream. She can erupt in a torrent of rage that sends a chill down the spine—as when she learns of Walter Lee’s improper investment of her money—but she excels in quieter moments, as when she wistfully describes to her daughter-in-law the middle-class married life she never got to have.

Robinson nicely balances Walter Lee’s contradictory nature, appearing proud one moment and childishly irascible the next. Thomas taps beautifully into Ruth’s reserved strength. The fine ensemble cast also includes Keith A. Wallace in the brief but pivotal role of Bobo, which he makes memorable despite just a few minutes of stage time.

Hansberry still glows

The wide, deep dimensions of the Haas Stage prove less than ideal for scenic purposes. The Youngers’ Chicago tenement should feel cramped and decaying, but James F. Pyne Jr.’s scenic design instead looks light and airy, with charming exposed brick and desirable hardwood floors. It would easily command six figures on the open market today. The production also features an overuse of ambient sound (by Curtis Craig) that puts too fine a point on many of the play’s revelations, especially when coupled with DeAnna Doggett’s suggestive lighting design.

There are other aspects of Raisin that simply haven’t aged well: Walter Lee’s bad behavior is frequently justified or outright excused by the women in his life, for example. But even a staging that doesn’t hit every mark cannot blunt the overall power of Hansberry’s message, or the glow of her talent.