The thin red line between cop and crook is traced indelibly by playwright Tommy Carter in Hellz Kitchen Ablaze, a gutsy, blisteringly powerful drama about eight members of a gold-shield, NYPD narcotics squad trying to steal a huge pot of money from some Colombian drug dealers. The detectives, mostly Italian-Americans, consider themselves a family, having functioned as a unit for many years, doing the tough, dangerous kind of undercover work that leads to convictions and commendations. They know and trust each other, which is why they are confident they can get away with robbing the Colombians of nearly a million bucks.
But they're also street-smart enough to know that where drugs are concerned, there's always a snitch involved. Fear and paranoia are already eating at them when the play opens, and they've gathered in a dingy New York City warehouse to put their plan into effect. "Somebody's gotta be wearin' a wire," shouts one of them, detective Bossano (the dynamic Phil Parolisi). There are denials all around but since the playwright has already tipped us to the fact that one of the men, Carmine (shifty Michael Camacho), is indeed wired, we know that betrayal, violence and death are in the offing.
While awaiting the inevitable -- but still stunning -- denouement, we are caught up in the night's tension, the detectives' arguments over the wisdom and morality of what they're doing. Some, like the proud elder (Gary Werntz), are feeling doubt and shame, others rationalize their sins ("It's the American way -- to steal").
The stakes are raised even higher when the money finally arrives, delivered by the one African-American member of the team (Tim Starks). The sight of a million dollars inflames the men, makes them crazy -- first with joy, then with greed. They've crossed over the line, and there's no going back now. Honest men have become criminals except, of course, for the snitches in their midst.
Revelations and confrontations follow, with profane, explosive and bloody results. Hellz Kitchen begins to burn.
