The Peterborough Players production of “Pipeline,” by Dominique Morisseau, is a powerhouse of emotion, encompassing deep and abiding love, anger and fear.
A show with a cast of six members, the story is set in a present-day city, if not explicitly New York, than at least modeled after it. The title is a reference to the “school-to-prison pipeline,” a reference to the trend of incidents within schools being handled through the justice system rather than administratively, sending a disproportionate number of children of color and disabled students into the juvenile or adult prison system before they even have an opportunity to graduate.
It’s this grim reality that grips Nya, a public school teacher who is consumed by fear for the future of her son Omari, who in a fit of anger shoved a teacher at his private school into a smartboard. The threat of expulsion – or worse, criminal charges – hangs heavy over her son’s head.
While not entirely devoid of humor, this is a heavier production for the Players.
The play is framed by the poem “We Real Cool,” by Gwendolyn Brooks, a short piece depicting a group of young Black teenagers skipping school at a pool hall, living fast because, as the haunting last line of the poem suggests, they anticipate having a short life.
The poem is a recurring theme in the play, introduced by Nya as part of a lesson to her students, but its lines are brought back throughout the production. It seems fitting, as the language of the play tips between natural-sounding dialogue and a rhythmic, elevated way of speaking that sometimes tumbles into a cadence that’s more like spoken-word poetry than dialogue.
Similarly, the direction of the play takes an approach where the cast members are often facing the audience – framed within the play as speaking to invisible, silent participants in their one-sided conversations, or as phone calls or messages – which enhances that spoken-word feeling.
Antu Yacob as Nya and Alcides Brito Costa Jr. as Omari are the heart of this production. Yacob’s anxiety and desperation bleeds though the stage, and Costa is perfectly believable as a teenager trying to work through his emotions and put them into words.
Omari and his parents each are essentially dealing with the same issue – the inability to express themselves the way they want, particularly to those they love. But each presents in a unique way, and the actors portraying them each approach it differently.
Nya’s fear for her son bubbles below the surface, rearing its head when she can no longer push it down, leading to one of the most-affecting scenes of the play. Yacob presents her frustration as nearly palpable.
C.J. Lindsey as Xavier, Nya’s ex-husband and Omari’s father, is also a standout. He acts as a mirror to Omari’s struggle, a father who is trying to provide for his son but unable to engage emotionally, representing the generational trauma that’s providing Omari with a stumbling block to move through his adolescence. They also try to smother their emotions and present a tough, masculine exterior, to the ultimate detriment to their relationships.
Zaramaria Fas as Omari’s girlfriend Jasmine, Bridget Beirne as Nya’s fellow public school teacher Laurie and Philip Kershaw as Dun, a school security guard, provide some of the show’s levity. Players regulars may recognize Fas and Beirne from past productions, including last year’s production of “Cabaret.” Beirne’s performance as Laurie, a teacher whose blunt and bombastic personality – a result of her somewhat jaded perspective of the job – provides a good deal of the play’s humor.
The play’s set is stripped down, almost industrial-feeling with a brick background, giving the kind of closed-in feeling that both evokes the somewhat-rough school environment of Nya’s work and the looming threat of prison for Omari. Given that so many characters are struggling with expressing themselves, the dingy, oppressive feel of the gray background works well in the play’s favor.
To break up the mostly static set, instead of heavy use of props, the play uses a projection screen at various points. Using transitions that swipe across the screen in a pattern reminiscent of an aerosol spray paint can, alternately showing images of viral videos of school violence in the form of fights and contributing to the integration of Brooks’ poem into the story, the projection becomes part of the story, interweaving with the narrative.
“Pipeline” is scheduled to run through Aug. 13 on the Players’ main stage. Shows are at 7:30 p.m. weekdays and 4 p.m. on weekends. Tickets are $52 with fees and are available online at peterboroughplayers.org or by calling the box office.
Ashley Saari can be reached at 603-924-7172, Ext. 244 or asaari@ledgertranscript.com. She’s on Twitter @AshleySaariMLT.