Denzel Washington is the draw for this revival of August Wilson’s “Fences.” But it’s the play itself that keeps audiences on the edge of their seats: This is pure, unabashed melodrama — the kind where the line “Got something to tell you” never introduces good news.
The 1987 play, which won both the Pulitzer and Tony, may not be Wilson’s most sophisticated effort — brace yourself for multiple baseball analogies — but it’s one of his most emotionally effective. And it feels good to be taken for a ride by such a storyteller, especially when the ride is as delicately staged, as gorgeously acted as it is here.
That Washington brings gravitas to the central character of Troy Maxson isn’t surprising: A deep-rooted, weighty dignity is the actor’s stock in trade. And in the first act, Troy is exactly what we expect from Denzel.
Troy is a solid family man in 1957 Pittsburgh. After 18 years, he remains in lust with his wife, Rose (Viola Davis, from “Doubt”). Their teenage son, Cory (Chris Chalk), dutifully does his household chores. Troy endures his job as a sanitation worker, but at least he’s about to become the first black man to go from picking up garbage to driving the truck.
Things haven’t always been easy. A stint in jail prevented Troy from raising Lyons (Russell Hornsby), his now-grown son. And while Troy was a fine baseball player, racism confined him to the Negro Leagues. Still, he seems at peace with his life now.
And yet there are fault lines. Troy is put off by Cory’s dreams of a football scholarship, and often seeks refuge in tall tales and nostalgia — which only exacerbates his simmering frustration.
After a first act mostly devoted to exposition, the play takes off and delivers several pathos-laden twists. It’s as if Wilson had engaged the turbo on his dramatic engine.
Thankfully, director Kenny Leon and his incredible cast keep a light touch as things get heavy. Branford Marsalis’ evocative music adds to the mood without drawing undue attention to itself. The contrast between the somewhat hackneyed developments and the subtlety with which they’re handled makes for deeply affecting theater.
This is also where Washington truly shows his worth as an actor, melding into the ensemble and letting his co-stars gain traction. Davis, in particular, transcends the clichéd part of the resilient wife who’s the household’s real backbone. Look at Rose’s face when Troy gives her shattering news: It literally crumples down in pain.
In the end, the cast’s selflessness, dedication and honesty are the best tribute possible to Wilson’s play — which, after all, is about a family.