“Bootycandy” is the name of Woolly Mammoth’s final presentation in a season the company has called a “striptease of your subconscious.” Written and directed by Robert O’Hara, “Bootycandy” is a string of 10 brief, interconnected plays that reference the process of growing up black and gay in contemporary American society. Taken together, the playlets of “Bootycandy” are sometimes funny, sometimes serious and sometimes outrageous. But at all times they reveal a tremendous amount of acting talent in the cast of five: Jessica Frances Dukes, Phillip James Brannon, Laiona Michelle, Lance Coadie Williams and Sean Meehan.
These actors tackle a variety of roles, sometimes having a presence in two unrelated plays. One character is met before she is born as her mother vigorously defends the name she gave her. In a later scene, a grown woman of the same name is seen at her noncommitment ceremony, in which she and her ex-partner break their vows. No connection, other than the name, is given.
| Onstage |
| ‘Bootycandy’ |
| Where: Woolly Mammoth Theatre, 641 D St., NW |
| When: 8 p.m. Wednesdays through Saturdays; 3 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays through June 26 |
| Info: Tickets begin at $35; 202-393-3939; woollymammoth.net |
“Bootycandy” is full of those inbred references in which characters are seen first from one angle, then another. In the first scene, a young boy named Sutter (Phillip James Brannon) asks his mother about names of body parts, to which his mother huffily replies, “Look it up!” That boy reappears as a young man in several later sketches. He is, in fact, O’Hara’s alter ego and the central character in this coming-of-age story.
“Bootycandy” is full of wit and intelligence, with savvy observations about sex and how we talk about it and avoid talking about it. Most of its pieces are well-formed, intriguing satires.
In “Conference,” for instance, an utterly misguided white moderator sits with a group of black playwrights, trying to get them to talk about their plays. The harder he tries to make the conversation go the way he wants it to go, the more he fails.
In “Happy Meal,” a teenage son and his father are reading at the dinner table, not listening to the mother, who blathers on nonstop about her day. When the son reveals that something upsetting has happened to him, the parents keep talking, covering his words with cliches about how he should live and what’s wrong with him.
The more serious pieces in “Bootycandy” are not as strong as the comic pieces, being vaguely self-indulgent and offering echoes of soap operas rather than substance. Despite their inconsistencies, O’Hara’s stories make sense without conventional plots or sequential narratives. The best are short breaths of dramatic fresh air and a good way for Woolly Mammoth to close its 2010-2011 season.
