Early on in Eisa Davis’ exuberant new play Angela’s Mixtape, an airport baggage porter dubiously questions Ms. Davis (the author plays herself throughout) about the first name on her passport---Angela. Finally establishing that Angela Eisa Davis is not “the” Angela Davis (actually she is Eisa’s real life aunt), the porter breaks into a huge grin and says, “She’s your aunt? Wow. How is she?” Eisa’s deadpan reply is “Fine”. And so it goes as we fall into an identity conundrum worthy of Alice and her looking glass. Or as the actress puts in her opening hip-hop monologue “With the shame of fame, on the blame terrain, how do I live up to my name?”
Angela’s Mixtapebegins as a mixed-media homage to Eisa’s aunt, the infamous 1960’s revolutionary icon, Marxist theoretician and unjustly imprisoned, Angela Davis. The devise used to present her story is the mixtape –a compilation of songs both personal and casual; either random or conceptual that is recorded on an audio cassette that was popular during the 70’s and 80’s. Yet as the story evolves through a collage of period pop music, freedom chants, infectious dance moves and protest rallies we discover that it is really Eisa’s coming of age story (both politically and emotionally) that is on view.
Growing up in Berkeley, California (that hotbed of social activism), Eisa’s mother Fania (but only called Mommy in the play) is all about political justice and intellectual freedom. Played with a fierce self-respect by Kim Brockington, Mommy, a lawyer, grooms Eisa to be a daughter of the socialist revolution and in her own way is as politicized as her sister Angela. It’s a lot to ask of a child especially when the subject of race is always present in the mix (Angela and Fania went to white schools).Yet, despite the entire socio-political stimulus that Mommy provides (enforces?), she is also emotionally withholding.
Hovering over this environment is “the” Angela Davis and her world famous exploits. Harassed by J. Edgar Hoover for her Communist membership and placed on the FBI 10 most wanted list for her alleged involvement in the Soledad Prison breakout, Davis (played with a quiet dignity by Linda Powell) is the guardian angel of the piece. Her volatile life is refracted in Eisa’s upbringing as the young girl is often asked to ‘perform’ excerpts from Angela’s autobiography at social gatherings. While the author never allows the various situations to get to a “What Would Angela Do?” position, it is ever present in the young Eisa’s consciousness.
Antidotal time shifts through two decades 1970’s -1990’s can cause a bit of chronological confusion. The piece also tends to be dense with period detail and without knowledge of Angela Davis’ notoriety, we can find ourselves adrift. The absolutely infectious performance by Eisa Davis and a steady directorial hand by Liesl Thomas (another impressive job after The Good Negro) go a long way in keeping things humming along. A hip-hop chorus of sorts winningly played by Denise Burse and Ayesha Ngaujah fill out the other characters in Eisa’s life (from her grandmother to high school classmates). When things start to get off track (as in the rather sudsy, problematic mother/daughter conflict), Ms. Powell arrives to bring a needed gravitas to the proceedings.
Late in the play, Ms. Powell notes, “So this mixtape wasn’t for me at all”. It is and it isn’t, of course. Eisa Davis’ search for self-determination may not be as dramatic as her aunt’s but the quest is just as valid. The vibrancy and urgency of the younger Davis story proves to be as potent as that of her more prominent aunt.
