“Ain’t No Mo’,” a biting political satire that premiered at Boston’s Calderwood Pavilion on Jan. 10, begins with a startling premise. What if, to solve the problem of racism, the U.S. government gave every Black citizen a one-way ticket to Africa? From this absurd premise, playwright Jordan Cooper has conjured up a no less absurd play, made up of a series of vignettes in which African Americans are forced to reckon with their histories and decide whether to stay or go.
Cooper’s play is a meditation on the complexities of being Black, grappling with the idea that racism did not end in 2008. On Nov. 4, 2008, America was forever changed as Barack Obama became the first African American to be elected president. The play opens with a mock funeral on the night of the election, as Black America mourns the passing of their “right to complain.” According to the preacher (De’Lon Grant), things will finally be different because “the President is a n---a.”
Or will they? In “Ain’t No Mo’,” “different” doesn’t always mean “better.” Following a series of video clips highlighting the racial violence and injustice that continued to haunt America in the wake of Obama’s election, the audience is introduced to a parade of characters, each of whom is forced to grapple with questions of race in America in one way or another.
First, we meet Peaches (Grant Evan), the gate agent for African American Airlines Flight 1619, the final plane departing for Africa. Evan plays Peaches perfectly, with a phony air of friendliness that is ready to burst at the seams. The other five members of the six-person cast are the “Passengers,” taking on a variety of roles in the play’s many vignettes.
In one scene, an expecting mother, Trisha (Dru Sky Berrian), waits for her name to be called at an abortion clinic, with thousands in line ahead of her. While the absurd number of women in the line is first played for laughs, it soon becomes evident that the reasoning behind such a cultural decision is made from the overwhelming despair Black mothers must face when raising Black children. Throughout the show, a tinge of fear permeates the scenes. While the show itself is full of comedic moments and unserious dialogue, the understanding of what it means to be Black in America is never lost — that every moment of your life, even the best ones, can and will be tainted by the fear of a world that may never accept you. In the end, while hilarious, the decisions of these mothers are not made lightly — they are made out of self-preservation.
In a more absurd scene parodying “The Real Housewives” franchise, we meet the “Real Baby Mamas of the South-Side,” a group of Black women who are constantly trying to one-up each other with their accomplishments. They are caricatures of Black women, with exaggerated mannerisms, outfits and lore. However, when the cameras stop rolling, we discover they’re nothing like the women they play on TV. One of the “baby mamas” is childless in real life. Another cast member, Rachonda (Kiera Prusmack), is not even Black — instead, she’s introduced as a “transracial” woman.
Throughout the “baby mamas” scene, Tracy (Schanaya Barrows) stands up to Rachonda — whose real name is actually Rachel — calling her out for her lies and cultural appropriation. Rachel states that no matter what, white women — such as herself — will always be able to take what they desire from Black women, whether it be their style, sway or energy. Despite the hilarious scene ending of the actual Black women ripping off their wigs with screams of joy, Rachel is a reminder of a different threat that faces Black Americans: having their culture ripped away.
The vignettes continue to traverse a wide range of settings and topics, exploring the complicated diversity of the Black community. In one scene, a guard begs the last remaining inmate of a women’s prison to take her ticket to freedom. Another scene sees a rich Black family forced to confront a stowaway named Black in their basement (a wonderfully audacious MaConnia Chesser) who represents the African American identity they’ve hidden away.
Although the odd assortment of comedy and drama makes for some difficult tonal shifts between some scenes, director Dawn M. Simmons’ clear artistic vision and Cooper’s script make the high-concept play an enjoyable watch. It helps that the transitions between scenes give Evan’s Peaches an opportunity to show off her impressive monologuing talents as she admits the final passengers onto the plane.
While comedic, “Ain’t No Mo’” is a breathtaking depiction of what it means to be Black in America. Despite the joy found in the Black American community, the play exposes the underlying threat Black Americans must face every day. To live in a world that makes it seemingly impossible to win, that lets the cries of millions fall on deaf ears and that continues to destroy every aspect of one’s identity is a heavy burden to bear. “Ain’t No Mo’” forces its audience to confront this heaviness, whether they wish to or not. Cooper’s play mines the darkest depths of American society and unearths a story that is shocking, timely and hysterical.
