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Regional Reviews: St. Louis Fly Also see Richard's review of The Comedy of Errors
Those large (forced perspective) projection screens, where the sky is seemingly interrupted only by the blades of an airplane propeller, dramatically enhance the on-stage "flights" as clouds and scenery seem to spin away, far below. And up at the very top of the show, a dreadlocked tap dancer sets a super-fast rhythm for coming events: his taps beating furiously against the stage like the engine of a prop-plane coughing and roaring to life—and we're off. The most singular element in this fictionalization (other than the projection screens) is the great loyalty of the famed black Airmen. Their steadfastness barely modulates at all in this 2009 play, even when the racism of their fellow Americans seems as inevitable as the air they breathe in Alabama of the 1940s. Or, perhaps the playwrights (Trey Ellis and Ricardo Khan) purposely drew their pilots from outside the Deep South and, as a result, the racism they finally encounter face-to-face can be treated like so much odd, foreign nonsense, from a Northerner's point of view. The verbal attacks, and worse, go almost unnoticed. Agit-prop, it ain't. This limits Fly to retracing well-worn paths of glory, using those impressive modern stage techniques, and a few good old ones that still work very well. What we end up with is a very high-end production (directed by co-author Khan, himself) full of impressive art—but one that seems strangely limited as artifact. In any case, like most soldiers' stories, there's an assortment platter at the ready: the tough Chicago guy (the great, on-fire Eddie R. Brown III), the sheltered Iowa guy (Will Cobbs), the exotic Islander (Terrell Donnell Sledge), and the nice guy from Harlem (heartwarming David Pegram, who also narrates). And it's the occasional glimpse of their anguish over losses along the way (shown best, but all too briefly, by Mr. Brown) and a little brother's sort of tenderness and vulnerability (from Mr. Pegram) that give the play its heart. Omar Edwards is billed as the show's "tap improvographer" or "tap griot," adding immeasurably to the pacing of the show and, equally, to its artistry. Cary Donaldson is very funny as one of the white bomber pilots, worried on the eve of the big air assault, and later recalling a gruesome race-killing in Texas (during a particularly awkward moment). That's almost the only note of "truth and reconciliation" in this entire remembrance of valiance and martyrdom, which otherwise aims at being merely nostalgic and iconic. Through November 10, 2013, at the Loretto-Hilton Center, 130 Edgar Rd., on the campus of Webster University. For more information visit www.repstl.org or call (314) 968-4925. The Players (in order of appearance Artistic Staff
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