THEATRE PREVIEW:

“PUDDIN 'N PETE” at the Old Globe Theatre

Published in San Diego Union-Tribune March, 1995

There's a serpent lurking in every relationship. From the Old Testament to the myths of the Yoruba people of Nigeria, a coiled manipulator can appear, to inject cacophony into the sweetest of duets. In Cheryl L. West's "Puddin 'N Pete: Fable of a Marriage," the Serpent plays a leading role. But he wasn't always around.

When "Puddin 'n Pete" opened at Chicago's Goodman Theatre in 1993, there was no snake to be seen. There were the title characters, a forty-something African-American couple attempting another go-round at marriage. Pete was a down-home, unschooled, high school janitor and Puddin was an upwardly mobile executive secretary. Then there was this young white girl.... But neither the Chicago critics nor the playwright herself were pleased with that particular challenge to the marriage.

So West went back to the drawing board last summer, and what emerged is virtually a new play, a fable grounded in the marriage of the same Puddin and Pete, with the political/social commentator Chorus intact, and the adolescent replaced by a reptilian trouble-maker.

"It's sort of a play on the Garden of Eden," says Gilbert McCauley, director of the revised "Puddin 'n Pete" at the Old Globe's Cassius Carter Centre Stage. McCauley, who directed the world premieres of "Puddin 'n Pete" and West’s highly acclaimed "Jar the Floor," felt he played a major role in the "P 'n P" rewrite.

When playwright and director first met in 1983 at the University of Illinois at Champaign, she was a graduate student in journalism and he was in the Master of Fine Arts program in directing. "We had a big, three-hour argument the first time we met," chuckles McCauley, picking at a late-night, post-rehearsal salad. West favored realism, but McCauley eschewed kitchen-sink drama in favor of more free-flowing, experimental work. The discussions continued over a decade. For the rewrite, West interwove her own brand of reality with a kind of magical realism. Says McCauley, "At times I joke and say to Cheryl, 'Whether you realize it or not, you wrote this for me. It has grown out of our discussions.'"

West, who flew in from Champaign to peek in on the last few days of rehearsal, doesn't see it exactly that way, but she knew changes were needed. "I think the first play was several different plays in one," she admits. "This one's more intimate. The external challenge to a marriage doesn't have to be so large. Most betrayals are inside; they're not always big things, but little daily betrayals we do to each other that add up, ultimately chiseling away at the foundation."

In a mythical setting (Greg Lucas' fanciful garden, all undulating blues and greens and giant-sized flowers), West can tell her story on several levels.

"Puddin and Pete are reality. They tell us everything, in a presentational way. The Chorus is the societal reality, the influences outside a marriage. The serpent is the mystical, spiritual, unexplained dark side we know exists in our lives, our own hidden truths we don't want to see, but they're there, wreaking havoc."

The symbology of the serpent has been powerful for the cast. Los Angeles-based actor Kevin E. Jones, who plays Pete, confessed that "snakes always had a magical power for me. A lot of African-American families can relate to that.

"For me, the whole thing is about communication. There's always gonna be something in a relationship that could ruin it. Whoever sees the snake, they've got to tell the other. But there's not just one snake in a relationship; there are many. That's why you see the serpent throughout the play. It forces them to face up to and share their truths."

Puddin's hidden truth is about her relationship with her father and her distrust of men. To Atlanta actress Elizabeth Omilami, who plays Puddin, "Cheryl has found a way to talk about child abuse without making it the en-all and be-all. It may be disturbing, but it isn't highlighted... One monologue I couldn't learn, because it was so true for me. Not about abuse, which I haven't experienced, but about issues of marriage and why we stay in it. I thought, 'How dare she write my life?' I told Cheryl, 'This play should be used in all marriage therapy. It's definite drama therapy."

West's often raw honesty has brought criticism from the black community, concerns that her work portrays African-Americans in a negative light. "Black people are so maligned in the arts and media," she says, "we've earned the right to be suspicious. There are not too many opportunities to see ourselves dramatized, so we have high expectations -- and we should. There may be one black play; that's supposed to represent all black life, all black experiences? There's a reason for people to be suspicious, but that's not necessarily a reason for me to censor myself."

West's work has been generating high-profile interest and exposure of late. While her new incarnation of "Puddin 'n Pete" is aired in San Diego, "Jar the Floor," her powerfully moving story of four generations of mothers and daughters (which was lovingly produced at the Cassius Carter last year) is running in Rochester; her latest play, "Holiday Heart," is getting mixed reviews in its premiere at the Manhattan Theatre Club; and her first effort, the award-winning "Before It Hits Home," is being optioned by Spike Lee, while Oprah Winfrey's production company has commissioned an original screenplay.

But right now, her attention is focused on "Puddin 'n Pete." According to director McCauley, the play leaves the audience "definitely hopeful, yet grounded." That sounds like a description of the playwright. "We're so cynical, anesthetized," she says. "If we see a play about a relationship, and still can see a moment of some innocence, that's wonderful and really touching. I saw that in the rehearsal today... You need to see marriage succeed if the world is gonna succeed."

DATEBOOK

"PUDDIN 'N PETE"

The West coast premiere of the newly revised "Puddin 'n Pete: Fable of a Marriage" by Cheryl L. West opens on March 11 (previews March 8-10). Performances Tuesday-Saturday 8 p.m. Sunday 7 p.m. Saturday and Sunday 2 p.m. Through April 23. Cassius Carter Centre Stage, Balboa Park. $20-36; 239-2255.

PAT LAUNER is a freelance writer and the theater critic for KPBS-FM.

©1995 Patté Productions Inc.