‘King Hedley II’ at the Arden is a master class in live theater

There’s something very satisfying about experiencing live theater at its best: the chills after emotional monologues, the laughs despite desperate conditions, the collective gasp by the audience as tragedy unfolds, and the tears we wipe away as we leave.

A sublime example now plays at the Arden Theatre in a sharp, finely tuned production of August Wilson’s King Hedley II, running through March 30. The tragic drama centers on the Shakespearean stakes of economic anxiety and violence in Pittsburgh’s downtrodden Hill District neighborhood during the 1980s recession.

The titular King (played marvelously by Akeem Davis) returns home from prison, still haunted by his past but determined to change his future. He’s indignant and proud while also disarmingly funny and optimistic. In one moment, King fumes over an old enemy and in the next, he plants flower seeds in his barren backyard, tending to them gently, despite his mother, Ruby (Kimberly S. Fairbanks), warning him of bad dirt. They blossom even after King outlines them with barbed wire. The metaphor couldn’t be clearer, yet its impact only strengthens as the play continues.

The neighborhood isn’t much different from parts of North Philadelphia, though Thom Weaver’s set design features an omnipresent eye, a nod to the 366-year-old sage Aunt Ester, who appears in previous Wilson plays in his Century Cycle. She dies in Hedley, marking a darker turn in the series but still looms large.

» READ MORE: James Ijames finds a very Philly attitude in August Wilson’s characters

The next best wise man is Stool Pigeon (Monroe Barrick), the kooky but prescient neighbor hoarding newspapers and preaching his refrain: “God is a bad motherf—er.” He and Mister (Dax Richardson) provide comic relief as the ensemble navigates intersecting hardships and systemic inequalities.

The entire cast works together seamlessly, with every actor delivering master classes in performance under the precise direction of James Ijames, the Pulitzer-winning playwright of Fat Ham. Wilson’s rich text gives space to each character, like the especially compelling Tonya (Taysha Marie Canales), whose exasperation is palpable and unmistakably relevant. After years as a single mother while King was incarcerated, Tonya is pregnant again and wants an abortion. Canales shines during her gutting monologue explaining to King why she can’t imagine becoming a parent again.

“I got to watch [my daughter] be thrown in a hole that will take a lifetime to crawl out of, and I can’t do nothing to help her,” Tonya says. Lamenting the likelihood that her future child might one day be shot by the police or friends, she continues: “I don’t wanna bring life into this world that don’t respect life.”

Explosive scenes and emotional depth are as much a part of the journey as Wilson’s clever one-liners, like the many jokes by Elmore (Kash Goins), (“That’s why they call her a woman, she bring woe.”)

In one moment of levity, King goes to pick up photos at Sears (revealing the play’s age), but there is a problem at the department store that led them to lose the images. An irritated King shows them his receipt, but it’s basically useless. “The problem is, they telling me my receipt don’t count. It’s like they telling me I don’t count,” King says.

It’s a small, but illuminating exchange that called back to something else I heard on opening night. Before the lights dimmed, a patron behind me complained about another relatable annoyance: He tried buying food recently and a restaurant refused to take his cash, insisting they only accepted card payments. It’s an illegal practice in Philly, he explained, but that fact didn’t matter — he was hungry, he had money to pay for what he wanted, and he still couldn’t get food that day.

It’s like they telling me I don’t count.

Like that patron, like King, everyday people are constantly feeling the financial squeeze and the widening income inequality. The parallels between Ronald Reagan and President Donald Trump speak loudly in this production without their names ever being mentioned. The harsh realism of King Hedley II underscores the human cost, and immeasurable pain, of these burdens in its shocking ending.

(Community/Arts)

Pulitzer-winning playwright James Ijames returns to stage with a finely tuned production of August Wilson’s King Hedley II, where the titular King (Akeem Davis) returns home from prison, haunted by his past but determined to change his future.

⌚️ Through March 30,📍 40 N. Second St., 🌐 ardentheatre.org

Theater reviews are produced independently by The Inquirer without editorial input by their sponsor, Visit Philadelphia.