Justin Weaks (center) and L to R: Joe Brack, Jade Jones, Nyla Rose, Clayton Pelham Jr., and Samy El-Noury (Stan Barouh)
The Mosaic Theater Company’s production of Charm explores trans life from the perspective of both youth and elders without shying away from the generational complexity at the heart of these relationships.
The play follows Mama Darlin’ (B’Ellana Duquesne), a 67-year old transgender woman who teaches etiquette to predominately homeless LGBTQ youth. Mama is a thrilling lead, with Duquesne ably stepping into a lineage of crowd-pleasing fictional educators that include Morgan Freeman, Edward James Olmos, and even Jack Black. Playwright Philip Dawkins drew inspiration from Gloria Allen, the real life Mama who taught such a class in Chicago.
The narrative’s cutesy tenor may lull the audience into a false sense of security, but the play trades in more shades of gray than its colorful exterior would suggest.
Early on, Mama seems a magical Mary Poppins, sweeping through the tumultuous lives of her students with an Emily Post book tucked under her arm, a sassy, loving manifestation of every “it gets better” ad ever made.
But she’s more complicated than that.
One moment Mama is helping Victoria (Jade Jones) come to terms with body image issues, but the next she’s callous and insensitive to Jonelle (Justin Weaks), a gay male who dresses as a woman through much of the show but does not identify as female. Mama insists that he pick a gender and stick to it, the same brand of rigidity these kids are supposed to be escaping from outside the center’s walls.
Likewise, Ariella (Nyla Rose), a trans woman sex worker, seeks kinship with Mama, whom she sees as the loving parent she’s never had. But Mama shuns her, feeling Ariella is strong enough to survive without her help. Instead she forms a bond with Beta (Clayton Pelham, Jr.), an ex-gang banger hiding a secret from the rest of the class.
Director Natsu Onoda Power stages the play with blocking that emulates theater in the round, and uses bombastic music and sound to mark the show’s many dramatic transitions. Characters yell and shout over one another while a compressed, blown out layering of pop and hip-hop approximates the kinetic strife at the heart of the youth center.
The show is at its best when it veers from the cookie cutter genre strictures of the classroom drama and provides a messier, more fluid depiction of queer life. The conclusion is a little too sweet, too neat, a satisfying if perhaps unearned ending. What Charm posits above all else is that it can be hard to live your truth in the world. Mama wants her kids to know there’s nothing wrong with facing that struggle with your chin up: a little charm goes a long way.
Charm plays at Atlas Performing Arts Center, 1333 H Street NE, through January 29th. Tickets are available here.
