Review: Man in the Ring (Court Theatre)

World premiere a gut-punching, riveting drama

Review by Catey Sullivan

It seems cheap to go for the cheesy, obvious metaphor, but there's no getting around it: is a gut-punch of a drama. The world premiere of Michael Cristofer's take on the life of six-time welter weight world champion Emile Griffithhits with visceral impact. It doesn't matter if you don't know throwing a left hook from throwing in the towel. As Griffith's life unfolds in Court Theatre 's TKO of a production, you will be riveted.

The central conflict in the piece is crystallized in a single line: "I kill a man and most forgive me. I love a man and many say this makes me an evil person," Griffith muses as he ponders his career.

A gay man in the ultra-macho world of professional boxing, Griffith's life both in and out of the ring was defined by poisonous homophobia. The slurs and attacks aimed at Griffith were relentless, as was the pressure to stay deep in the closet. The rage at having to hide who he was exploded in the ring in 1962, when Griffith killed Benny Paret, pummeling him with all but inhuman ferocity and speed. To this day, analysts who have pored over slo-mo video of the fight still can't say for sure how many times Griffith punched Paret.

Cristofer puts that fatal bout in the center of Man in the Ring , penning a story that is at once a tragedy, a cautionary tale, a psychological thriller and a merciless look at the terrors of aging when both your body and your brain have been brutally, irreversibly damaged.

The plot slips fluidly back and forth in time, the elderly Griffith (Allen Gilmore) tormented by the ghosts of his past as he struggles to get through the simplest, everyday tasks of the present. Cristofer's vivid, poetic language puts the audience squarely inside the terror wrought by Griffith's misfiring mind: We see the younger Emile (Kamal Angelo Bolden) relive scenes from a deeply disturbing childhood, an incandescent boxing career and the seminal bout that yielded lifelong, crippling guilt as heavy as a thousand cinder blocks.

The non-linear structure is easy to follow, but it's also got the hyper-vivid, hallucinatory feel of a fever dream. Emile's adventures in the underground gay clubs of 1960s New York City illustrate the boundless joy and curiosity of a young man with the world at his feet. Decades later, all that remains of Griffith's glory days is wreckage. He's like a child, unable to dress himself, confused about where he is and puzzled about what he should do next.

Director Charles Newell has a maestro's touch with Man in the Ring , delivering a symphony of a drama that is threaded through with recurrent themes even as unexpectedly beautiful and sorrowful passages rocket the plot forward. Working hand-in-glove with Newell is choreographer Tommy Rapley, who creates poetry from physicality, instilling the piece with a kinetic, contemporary Greek Chorus. As both dancers and percussionists, the ensemble punctuates action with staccato beats and gorgeously seamless, propulsive movement. The choreography heightens the dreamy quality of Emile's memories, while also giving it a terrible beauty that's difficult to look away from even as horrors unfold.

As the older Emile, Gilmore has the innocent, saucer-wide eyes of a child, peering out from the crumbling body of a broken, old body. As the younger Emile, Bolden has a shockingly beautiful physicality. There's a workout sequence in the first act that drew audible gasps from the opening night audience. Bolden's strength and grace seem unearthly; he turns a jump rope and pull-up bar into something more like angels' wings than the grimy implements of a sweat-stained gym.

But both Gilmore and Bolden bring far more than physicality to Emile Griffith. Together, they manage to become two parts of the same whole, disparate yet united with the lithe symmetry of a DNA double helix.

Bolden instills the young Emile with the radiant joy of a young man who hasn't learned that the world will try to destroy him for who he loves. As Emile keeps winning, his grin becomes infectious. And when he begins to understand that the world is not the sunny, live-and-let-live place he has always believed in, the erosion of faith is almost unbearable.

Gilmore has the difficult task of making a childlike old man come to life without infantilizing the character or turning him into a comic figure. In Gilmore's hands, the elder Emile remains a force to be reckoned with, a lion-hearted man whose endless search for inner peace makes him a figure deep with abiding empathy.

The supporting cast is every bit as strong as the momentous leads. Gabriel Ruiz(almost unrecognizable sporting a meticulously clean-shaven look) tackles two crucial roles that are revealed to have a surprising but uplifting and joyfully fitting connection in the final scenes. As a young gay man who romances Emile in a gay club, Ruiz-as-cruiser-in-search-of-something-more-than-no-strings-sex is a memorable combination of bone-deep sex appeal and soul-deep yearning. As Emile's caretaker in the boxer's later years, Ruiz embodies the sort of lifelong friendship that everybody fears dying without.

Melanie Brezill plays Emile's effervescent wife, embracing a whirlwind romance with glee only to come out shattered on the other side of the storm. As Bennie, Sheldon Brownmakes for a towering boxer with an uncanny resemblance to the real Benny Jaret. Brown also plays Benny's son, and delivers a scene of reconciliation and forgiveness that illustrates the tragedy of burying pain within, thereby giving it the power to rot you from the inside out.

John Culbert's cinderblock-framed set both speaks to specific revelations about Emile's childhood and gives the stage the worn-down feel of an arena where countless men have beaten each other senseless. Andre Pluess' sound design is a character unto itself, the music of Emile's childhood repeating like a sonic ghost throughout the production.

Man in the Ring dances and spars at the intersection of violence and love, two things that are inextricably twined in Griffith's world. It's a world well-worth immersing yourself in. It's the rare world premiere that you hope has a long life on stages the world over.

Man in the Ring continues through October 16th at Court Theatre, 5535 S. Ellis (map), with performances Wednesdays & Thursdays 7:30pm, Fridays 8pm, Saturdays 3pm & 8pm, Sundays 2:30pm & 7:30pm. Tickets are $price, and are available by phone (773-753-4472) or online through their website (check for half-price tickets at Goldstar.com ). More information at CourtTheatre.org. (Running time: 1 hour 45 minutes, includes an intermission)

Kamal Angelo Bolden (Young Emile), Allen Gilmore (Emile Griffith), Thomas J. Cox (Howie, ensemble), Jacqueline Williams (Emelda, ensemble), Melanie Brezill (Sadie, Lucia, ensemble), Gabriel Ruiz (Luis, ensemble), Sheldon Brown (Benny, Benny Jr., ensemble), Sean Michael Sullivan (Manuel, ensemble).

behind the scenes

Tags: 16-0951, Allen Gilmore, Amanda Weener-Frederick, Andre Pluess, Benny Paret, Catey Sullivan, Charles Newell, Chicago Theater, Court Theatre, Emile Griffith, Gabriel Ruiz, Jacqueline Firkins, Jacqueline Williams, John Culbert, Kamal Angelo Bolden, Keith Parham, Melanie Brezill, Michael Brosilow, Michael Cristofer, post, Sean Michael Sullivan, Sheldon Brown, Thomas J. Cox, Tommy Rapley

Category: 2016 Reviews, Catey Sullivan, Court Theatre, New Work, World Premier