The Motor City of the ’60s was famous for three things: cars, Motown and riots. The last two figure prominently in Dominique Morisseau’s endearing new play, “Detroit ’67” — we’ll have to wait a bit longer for her take on Chrysler.
The first big element is music, much loved by the Poindexter siblings, Chelle (Michelle Wilson) and Lank (Francois Battiste). They hold after-hour parties in the basement of their Detroit home, where everybody dances the night away to Mary Wells and Marvin Gaye, and Lank’s about to step things up with his new purchase: an eight-track to replace Chelle’s skippy turntable.
But just as they’re getting ready for another hopping night, Lank and his best friend, smooth-operator Sly (Brandon J. Dirden, late of “The Piano Lesson”), bring home a woman who passed out after a beating.
“What you think gonna happen when this white girl wake up in a house full of colored folks in the ghetto?” asks a horrified Chelle.
Turns out the mysterious Caroline (Samantha Soule) is on the lam and happy to lay low for a while. She also likes Motown, and can mix a mean Bali Hai.
So much for Caroline. The Poindexters have another problem: Their house sits at the epicenter of the riots that rocked Detroit in July 1967. Uh-oh.
Under Kwame Kwei-Armah’s brisk direction, the first act moves at an engagingly fast clip, which makes it easy to overlook the stereotypes: Chelle is the responsible, hard-working woman who holds the family together, while Lank and Sly are the fun-loving men cooking up get-rich schemes.
Things get shakier after intermission, when Morisseau strains to integrate the street violence with the tension between Chelle and Lank, who’ve been arguing over how best to invest their inheritance money.
But the show has such heart and is so warmly acted that it draws you in anyway. The greatest coup may come from De’Adre Aziza (“Passing Strange”): Her slinky, droll turn as Bunny, a sexy friend of the family, makes you forget there’s no good reason for her character to be there.
Decked out in costume designer Esosa’s hotcha outfits, Aziza makes the most of every line, every shimmy, particularly when she launches into a misty-eyed reminiscence about her first kiss, at a family reunion.
“Hope he wasn’t a cousin,” she concludes with a wink.
Co-produced by the Public and the Classical Theatre of Harlem, the show is a great opportunity to check out new talent at a moderate price. Those who miss it downtown can catch it at the National Black Theatre (2031 Fifth Ave.; 866-811-4111) running from March 23 to April 14.