‘We Are Gathered’ Is a Wise, Witty Gay Love Story
Tarell Alvin McCraney’s "We Are Gathered" at Arena Stage explores modern gay romance, sex, and commitment.
Not every couple has a fairy-tale beginning, or meet-cute origin story to share in “Awww”-inducing social media posts. Romance, for some, blossoms under less decorous circumstances. That’s the case for W. Tre and Free, the Black queer couple at a crossroads in Tarell Alvin McCraney‘s brilliantly observed, and deliciously frank and funny love story We Are Gathered.
Tre and Free met at an outdoor cruising spot inside a city park, where men gather in the dark for surreptitious, mostly anonymous sexual hookups. It so happens that, for this couple, lust at first sight led not only to quick sex, but also a genuine connection that then grew into something deeper.
Five years on, they’re so deep in love that pensive architect W. Tre is seriously contemplating marriage. He’s also seriously questioning whether he’s ready, or capable of, committing to a lifetime commitment, even with this man he adores.
Portrayed with effortless command and endearing urgency by Kyle Beltran in Kent Gash’s world-premiere production at Arena Stage, W. Tre is a Hamlet of gay romance, spinning in his own web of brutal indecision.
Similarly, he addresses his conundrum to the audience in winding, mountainous monologues, scaled beautifully by Beltran, capturing the guy’s sly, self-deprecating humor, along with the gravity of what’s troubling his mind.
“I love him,” W. Tre declares of Free, an exuberant, yet somehow also serene songwriter ten years his junior, well-played by Nic Ashe as someone entirely cozy in his skin, or in a skirt.
But, “why don’t I need to get married?” That is W. Tre’s question — one among many he’ll consider: Does anybody need to be married, or even monogamous, especially any gay man? Didn’t the generations of queer trailblazers who fought for marriage equality in this country also fight so he could express his sexuality without shame, and with some muscled stranger in the park if he so desires?
For better and for worse, W. Tre feels compelled to return to his cruising spot often, both in his memory and in the flesh. The production takes us there vividly through the simple details of gaslight lampposts situated around Arena’s Fichandler Stage, and Adam Honoré’s atmospheric lighting.
Jason Sherwood’s minimal set also takes us inside W. Tre and Free’s bedroom, ringed in bright neon. Within that circle, they’re safe in each other’s arms.
Beyond the circle lies… us, the audience, the unofficial cast members who lend their support in call-and-response, as the characters onstage, particularly W. Tre and Free, cross the fourth wall liberally from the start.
Gash, who also directed the Tony-winning production of McCraney’s Choir Boy, conjures a gorgeously intimate communal experience between a few hundred people, and an unforgettable night for a lucky few.
Every performance of the production’s run will also include at least one actual wedding ceremony, or marriage renewal, presided over by one of the actors, legally ordained for the purpose of marrying couples in the audience who have volunteered for the honor.
Whether or not W. Tre and Free wind up tying the knot, someone will say “I do” every performance. (On press night, two couples — one lesbian, one gay — delightfully took the plunge.) True love finds its place onstage, alongside W. Tre’s fear, anxiety, shame, and unwavering sexual desire.
Danger also rears its head inside the park, in a subplot that intrigues initially, but, ultimately, poses more of a distraction from the vital matter of W. Tre deciding his future.
To that end, McCraney thrusts his protagonist on a daring exploration into the mysteries of lust and commitment, and Beltran goes forth with courage, finding the music in McCraney’s lyrical speeches. And together, Beltran and Ashe generate the kind of intense chemistry that makes the urgency of W. Tre’s dilemma utterly compelling.
“Anything we have that is sacred is a calling,” says W. Tre. And what he’s found with Free feels sacred to him. Should it matter how they met, where they met, or that he can’t stop thinking about cruising the park for sex?
Well, that last one probably does matter, hence, this heaping, tasty dilemma on his plate, and McCraney’s wise and witty take on modern gay romance.
We Are Gathered (★★★★★) runs through June 15 at Arena Stage, 1101 6th St. SW. Tickets are $59 to $110. Call 202-488-3300, or visit www.arenastage.org.
Support Metro Weekly’s Journalism
These are challenging times for news organizations. And yet it’s crucial we stay active and provide vital resources and information to both our local readers and the world. So won’t you please take a moment and consider supporting Metro Weekly with a membership? For as little as $5 a month, you can help ensure Metro Weekly magazine and MetroWeekly.com remain free, viable resources as we provide the best, most diverse, culturally-resonant LGBTQ coverage in both the D.C. region and around the world. Memberships come with exclusive perks and discounts, your own personal digital delivery of each week’s magazine (and an archive), access to our Member's Lounge when it launches this fall, and exclusive members-only items like Metro Weekly Membership Mugs and Tote Bags! Check out all our membership levels here and please join us today!
You must be logged in to post a comment.