The more that time changes, the more it stays the same. Few authors understand this quite like Lynn Nottage. In her prize-winning play Sweat, she explores this theme through conversations involving factory workers who are at their ropes. The two eras, 2000 and 2008, present this narrative in a before and after nature that allows for a sense of fallout that parallels the economy. By the time that Long Beach Playhouse has staged it in 2024, the themes have returned to being painfully relevant and are delivered with a top tier cast whose souls ache in every line and create a perfect desperation for a greater resolution. As this tragically suggests, it’s not a story that’s resolved within its runtime. It’s still an ongoing issue. Even then, Nottage has found a way to make the message provocative and hopeful in more subdued manners.
The story takes place in Reading, PA. As each scene is introduced, a TV from the bar setting introduces a variety of news clips that familiarizes the audience with the time. With both being pivotal election years, there’s a mix of George W. Bush and Barrack Obama references alongside economics talk that help to paint a picture of what matters to Reading. Before the second scene even really gets going, there is a brownout to suggest that at this humble little bar, owner Stan (Floyd Harden) has begrudgingly accepted the rundown nature of his locale. He may have some friendly patrons, but it’s clear that this is nobody’s ideal place to be in life.
Throughout the story, the rotating cast of characters introduce a variety of issues that largely stem around the factory. Given that they’re all middle class who work on the floor, their complaints of back-breaking labor and sweating nonstop overpower the conversation. Even in their differences, their one unity is being workers in a lousy job. They may not have the finances to seek a better life, but they have friends to go to a bar with and vent. They find pleasure in small moments like birthdays and potential raises. Even if certain moments ultimately crumble into arguments over core disagreements, there is a unity that keeps them together. As their sanity breaks at the thought of moving on, they look at each other and realize that they’ll be able to hold onto each other.
Without spoiling more of the plot, things progress into more and more tense subject matter. What Nottage has created is a drama that finds the value of the group by highlighting what each individual brings to the table. There are those who seek controversial job promotions while others look for ways out that might make their friends turn on them. As the opening scene suggests, there will be those who even turn hateful and violent at the expense of ruining friendships that formerly seemed unbreakable. With each alteration, Nottage finds something profound and vulnerable to say about these characters.
The bigger question becomes what the value of The American Dream is when it doesn’t feel like the world that claims to fight for them actually does. Are the TV clips suggesting a reality that is honest, or is there deceit and greediness? It’s meant to create despair that wears at everyone holding a mug in their hands. This one luxury may only numb their worries, but it’s necessary to keep getting up in the morning. What are they working for? Even if they’re not passionate, can they possibly seek to quit at the risk of being replaced? After decades of loyalty, how does one make the tough decision to step back?
Sweat is a drama that finds everyone at wits’ end. While individual progress is made in solitary scenes, the revelations shine through in ensemble numbers the find truths emerging. Nottage has set up an incredible chessboard of tension that makes one wonder why anyone would stay. By the time it’s too late, the audience is enraptured at the cast’s ability to sell the heat through aggressive shouting and holding back fellow actors as they threaten to bloody their peers. This may be a temporary solution, but it’s a reasonable one given that they don’t feel like anyone of higher stature is fighting for them. Their bank accounts can’t afford that dignity.
More than anything, Sweat embodies the dissolve of the working class by turning them against each other. The ones who most need to hold onto each other are often the ones most likely to fall victim to the ugly side effects of capitalism. The ones who need money and security most aren’t going to be able to find a luxury greater than alcohol to pass their time. Sweat understands that the working class is stronger together, but it’s also intentionally designed to never realize that potential. There is a need for them to self-actualize before it’s too late. The answer comes in something bittersweet, but still manages to present some hopeful look forward.
The Long Beach Playhouse have done another fantastic job putting on Nottage’s work and presents it with a game cast that really dig into their characters. The tragicomic nature of the premise creates for a tense but rewarding night of theater that finds the core of humanity shining through in unexpected ways. Most of the scenes may center on drinking and commiserating, but it’s here that the audience best understands the factory workers. Most probably haven’t even stepped inside Reading, but there’s a good chance that the conflicts will feel familiar. It’s a blue collar premise that could apply to environments in better conditions than this. Given how brief of time it’s been since the pandemic, even the reconstruction of a viable economy allows for a worthwhile revisit of this text. It’s an entertaining night that balances warm with confrontation in a way that is profound and sticks with anyone willing to lean forward and listen.
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