Metro Weekly

Woolly Mammoth’s ‘Incendiary’ Review: Fired Up

Dave Harris' funny, fast-paced "Incendiary" ventures unflinchingly into disturbing corners of crime and punishment.

Incendiary -- Photo: Teresa Castracane
Incendiary — Photo: Teresa Castracane

Taking a whimsically absurdist approach to dead-serious subject matter, Dave Harris’ Incendiary (★★★☆☆) disarms with laughter as it fires up an affecting story about passing down cycles of violence and abuse through generations.

For its world-premiere run at Woolly Mammoth, director Monty Cole stages Harris’ daring comedy in suitably bold colors, from the costumes by Samantha Jones to Mextly Couzin’s lighting, which carves space eloquently against the neutral planes of Andrew Boyce’s clapboard-clad set.

The performances go bold, too, led by Nehaissaiu deGannes portraying Tanya, a mother with a determined heart and troubled mind. Or, it might be the other way around, as she also has an unlikely plan to break her son Eric (Terrance Fleming) out of prison. He’s been in solitary on death row for 10 years awaiting execution, and his time has come. But before his final judgment, Tanya is on her way, heavily armed and loaded, to free her boy.

She might seem like she’s joking, but she’s not joking, which is mainly the joke, and deGannes is very much in on it, lending Tanya the straightforward, let’s-do-this moxie of a champion, alongside the prim air of a regular mom in her headband and cardigan just casually buying arms and ammo for a prison break.

The character is funny moreso than the performance, but then deGannes manages the heavy lift of keeping Tanya emotionally, urgently present in nearly every scene, offstage for only one brief exchange during the play’s 80-minute runtime. Flattening her delivery to a steady, hyper stream of consciousness, deGannes pinpoints Tanya’s unflappable, at times unhinged, determination, as in a scene where Tanya first experiences the power of firing a gun, and the ease of pulling the trigger.

Whereas deGannes’ performance fits into the gleefully off-kilter vibe of Cole’s production, supporting players Breon Arzell and Brandon J. Pierce elevate that energy playing a variety of comedic roles. The pair really bring the laughs doing a perfectly synced double-act as Marcus and Markus, the attorneys Tanya consults before embarking on her mission.

Pierce also hits as Tanya’s gun-dealing brother Manny, while Arzell slays as, respectively, Tanya’s trainer, Gerard — because she needs to be in shape for this — and Joshua, her stylist, because she also can’t go out there looking a mess.

Incendiary -- Photo: Teresa Castracane
Incendiary — Photo: Teresa Castracane

Equally kooky, but operating on a whole other, more reflective wavelength, is Tanya’s existentially curious daughter, Jasmine, imbued with calm and warmth by Shannon Dorsey, a standout in Woolly’s recent Ain’t No Mo’. Through Jasmine, we understand this as more than just Tanya’s story, or a mother-son rescue drama, but as a portrait of a Black family struggling to stand together through abuse, violence, crime, incarceration, and capital punishment.

Within three or four scenes, Tanya goes from trying to purchase a flamethrower to recounting to Jasmine a fiery act of domestic violence committed by Jasmine and Eric’s dad. Ultimately, arson also turns out to have been one of the crimes Eric committed, too. They all are stuck in a cycle of dysfunction that’s been inflicted upon them, and that’s inflicted by them on the world.

As clearly as the play conveys its message, it also doesn’t reveal new layers to the primary point that violence begets violence. And it doesn’t offer, or apparently want to offer, much persuasion to support Tanya’s sure-to-be-deadly expedition. Attacking a prison with grenades and assault rifles is flawed as a prison reform or anti-capital punishment tactic, or breakout plan, for that matter — but Tanya sees no other choice. “They locked him up and I’m the key,” she insists. The love of a mother on a mission, in this case, will not be denied.

Incendiary runs through June 25 at Woolly Mammoth, 641 D St NW. Tickets are $29 to $70, with a limited number of pay-what-you-wish tickets available for each performance. Visit www.woollymammoth.net.

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