The Marvin Gaye Story   THEATER REVIEW by Mary Shen Barnidge 2012-05-30
The Marvin Gaye Story. Photo courtesy of Black Ensemble Theater
Playwright: Jackie Taylor. At: Black Ensemble Theater, 4450 N. Clark St. Tickets: 773-769-4451; www.ticketmaster.com; $55-$65. Runs through: July 29		Our play opens with a projected collage of newspaper headlines announcing music superstar Marvin Gaye's murder, quickly followed by his white-suited ghost taking center stage to welcome us with a blunt "We may as well talk about it now." He then proceeds to speak to us about the insidiously transformative powers of abuse and doubt, finishing with a call for forgiveness (and an "amen," which he promptly receives) of both himself and his killer. Then, and only then, does the band start up. Oh, and does it ever! You'd think the heavenly choir itself was playing Uptown and the angel Gabriel sitting in with the brass section. (You hear that hand-clapping obbligato? It's not the actors—that's the audience.) Among the splendors of this, the second show to occupy this spiffy new room, is an amplification hookup so sensitive as to later permit recurring character themes—the ominous bass line announcing Gaye's father, for example—analogous to those encountered in opera. That's right—opera. So expect to enjoy plenty of Black Ensemble's trademark renditions of its title icon's best-known hits—in this case, the sensual "Sexual Healing" and socially conscious "What's Going On," along with such early premonitions of fame as "Ten Commandments of Love" and his career-making duet with Tammi Terrell, "Ain't No Mountain High Enough." Company regular Rashawn Thompson croons the songs with a lissome charm that includes the kind of hip action on "Let's Get It On" that sends female playgoers into paroxysms of vocal ecstasy. (There's even some chaste laying-on of hands in the front rows before the night's over.) What distinguishes The Marvin Gaye Story from a simple song-after-song musical revue is the portion of onstage time devoted to the troubled life of this still-lamented artist—specifically, the indelible harm inflicted by his demon-driven parent upon a son unable to escape his destructive heritage except through suicide-by-design. Does this mean that the show is (at its roots) a lesson in dysfunctional family dynamics, with Gaye serving merely as a case study? While those seeking wisdom will not leave disappointed—the final number is a syncopated soul arrangement of "His Eye Is On The Sparrow," after all—those preferring their sermons with a choreographed backbeat will also go home satisfied. Can I get a you-know-what?