Black Joy Carries the Day in “Detroit ‘67”

If you’re overcome with persistent déjà vu next time you visit Long Beach Playhouse, don’t be alarmed: it may simply be that you saw A Raisin in the Sun when the Playhouse did it a decade ago. Because like Lorraine Hansberry’s 1959 classic, Detroit ‘67 pivots around Black families in major Midwestern cities with young adult siblings hoping to better their station through money received via their parents’ death. There’s even a male sibling in each who favors risky investment in a fledgling business venture as a means to live their American dreams in the face of history that is keeping them down.

Whether this foundational likeness makes Dominique Morisseau’s Detroit ’67 derivative is a matter of opinion, but it’s probably where the comparisons should end, because Morisseau simply can’t match Hansberry for scope, depth, and prose. 

Then again, she doesn’t have to provide a template for a night of enjoyable theatre.

This is mainly because of how successfully Morisseau populates her script with (to use a term I have by way of Jordan Peele) Black joy. Although Detroit ’67 might be most conveniently categorized as drama, its greatest strength is a vivaciousness that comes less from punchlines and gags than from the interpersonal dynamics of siblings Lank (Marc Morris) & Chelle (Alisha Elaine Anderson) and their friends-cum-family Sylvester (Jonathan D. Wray) and Bunny (Cassandra Carter-Williams). Between the dialog and the actors — and director Robyn Hastings’ synthesis of the two — we are flies on the wall of a specific time, place, and people and the energetic warmth that permeates both their highs and lows.

To that end, it doesn’t hurt that the play is saturated in (what else?) Motown classics (the Temps, the Tops, the usual suspects) — so much so that the Playhouse has created a playlist that attendees can download via a QR code displayed at the Mainstage entrance. And David Scaglione’s set design carries the weight of being the only location we ever experience, while Christina Bayer’s vivid costumes are more than period clichés. (Sly’s copper-silver suit damn near got a standing ovation.)

Detroit ’67 does falter a bit in its heaviest moments. The intended emotional gut-punch is so predictable that it was never going to land even were the actors up to the task, which they weren’t quite on opening night (though I’m guessing they’ll do better as the run progresses). The best weighty scenes involve Caroline (Allison Lynn Adams), a White woman aided by Lank and Sly despite the risks. This includes a back-and-forth between her and Chelle on the possibility of living in a space (both psychic and actual) where the color lines are blurred:

CHELLE: [Lank] starts believing it’s possible to be like you, to dream like you, to live like you. But it ain’t. 

CAROLINE: How do you know it isn’t? […] What happens when the lines are blurred? […]

CHELLE: Everywhere we go, them lines are real clear.

Despite ending in tragedy, Detroit ’67 is nothing if not simultaneously hopeful and wistful, looking toward a future that we know is better vis-à-vis racial equity and yet nowhere near good enough. It may not be A Raisin in the Sun, but it’s got something to say — and says it in style.

Detroit ‘67 at Long Beach Playhouse

Times: Fri–Sat 8:00 p.m., Sun 2:00 p.m.
The show runs through June 15
Cost: $20 to $30
Details: (562) 494-1014; LBplayhouse.org 
Venue: Long Beach Playhouse, 5021 E. Anaheim St., Long Beach