Phylicia Rashad makes a triumphant return to the stage in Blue, a breezy, wonderfully pleasing new work by Charles Randolph-Wright. Seeing how effortlessly she commands the stage, you wonder why she isn't on one more often. Best known as Claire Huxtable on the wildly popular "Cosby" shows, Rashad seems born to the stage, with her unmistakable presence and quiet gravity. The play she is in probably won't win any awards or bring her many new fans, but like her performance, the play is succeeds mightily because it knows what it wants and how to get it, which seems rarer and rarer these days. Blue operates on more or less a sitcommy level, but that is by no means an insult. Many sitcoms are popular because they inject new life into mundane situations, and even when things are a bit too broad, it's all stemming out of a certain reality. The playwright doesn't seem to want to make a bid to be the next August Wilson, and his laid-back approach is more than refreshing. A play about a wealthy black family in South Carolina who run a funeral parlor, Blue could have gone a lot of ways, some of them preachy and downright godawful. One can easily imagine a heavy-handed parable about increasing violence in black families, or of blacks "passing" for whites, with their nice decor and affinity for the finer things in life. Thankfully, neither one ever comes into play, even as the show nevertheless addresses topics pertinent to any family. Rashad plays Peggy Clark, the devilishly old-fashioned head of the household who never cooks (the family is treated to international cuisine daily, but not prepared by her sweat) and dotes on her youngest son Reuben (played by Chad Tucker as a pre-teen and Hill Harper as an adult), who aspires to be a trumpeter. She is married to Samuel (Randall Shepperd), the funeral parlor's dutiful owner, and they have an older son also named Sam (Howard W. Overshown), who seems on the way to becoming the family screw-up but holds his family in incredibly high regard. Samuel's mother, Tillie (played by the appropriately-named Jewell Robinson), drops by for dinner on occasion and resents Peggy's attachment to bettering herself and her family, which collides with Tillie's more sensible approach. Peggy's true attachment, however, is to Blue Williams (Michael McElroy), a sleek jazz singer who Peggy adores and knows everything about. No one is permitted to play anything but Blue in her house, much to the dismay of her disco-listening children (the play begins in the late 70s). Sam Jr.'s new gal, LaTonya (Messeret Stroman), is a countrified loudmouth who masks a good upbringing with her brashness. She enters the picture when Sam Jr. brings her to a family dinner, where she fumbles with her grammar in their pristine household until bonding with Peggy over her love of Blue. This gives Peggy a new girl to cast her spell over. Blue is represented both mystically and literally as the figure that changes everyone's lives, and how music has touched the Clark family. Family secrets are unlocked, and Peggy's perfect existence is thrown a bit out of whack as a result. One reason the play works so well is the flawless ensemble cast, fluidly directed by Sheldon Epps. Blue is funny and blithe without pitching to the lowest common denominator. The writing is filled with digs at Peggy's lush lifestyle (complete with elaborate costume changes) but doesn't invite you to make fun of her, which makes you genuinely care for her and her family. Rashad's well-modulated portrayal also skillfully finds a nice balance in Peggy's personality. She is an overbearing mother with annoying tics but also a loving character, and Rashad makes both very apparent without turning Peggy into a grotesque stereotype. Similarly, her co-stars are every bit as ingratiating, especially Shepperd, who registers strongly as the quietly resigned father and Harper as the elder Reuben. Harper can be a very mannered actor (something I didn't appreciate in the Public's recent Dogeaters), but here he seems just right, with his scenes played against Tucker (also first-rate, especially for such a young performer) showing a heartfelt slant. McElroy's robust presence and knockout vocals are the perfect conduit for Nona Hendryx's soulful song contributions, which fit nicely into the proceedings. Every member of the ensemble resists shrill Southern tomfoolery, which makes the two-and-a half hours well worth spending. Ultimately, Blue is a very small endeavor, but in all the right ways. A crowd-pleaser, it doesn't leave much to sift through when leaving it but is so grandly entertaining you don't much care. A light treat amidst a sea of high-calorie gluttony, Blue will leave you feeling anything but.
