Few playwrights created a mission statement as ambitious as August Wilson when he sought to create The Pittsburgh Cycle. The idea was simple. With each play incorporating one decade, he would explore the racial conflicts of the period relating to the family unit while highlighting the importance of community. The inaugural piece, Gem of the Ocean, starts in 1904 and features one of his most stylistically complex stories delving into magical realism and challenging the audience to see worlds beyond what a stage can achieve. The layered themes may not make sense at first, but like the best of Wilson’s work, it coalesces to help paint an entertaining picture of how the start of a new century provides opportunity, but also raises questions of who gets to have those chances.
At the center is an elderly “soul cleanser” who welcomes visitors to remove the guilt in their conscience. This is a house full of life, but also conflicting perspectives that seem to bang on the door by the hour. Some of them are former slaves escaping to the north for a better chance. Meanwhile, there are others who have lived comfortable lives in Pittsburgh. Some make money by collecting literal waste from the dirt while others possess traditional roles of law enforcement. Wilson adds wrinkles by suggesting that even within the role of authority, a Black man must obey an unfair system. No matter what freedoms are suggested to exist have to compete with the interpretive biases of the culture around them.
Loyal Wilson fans will recognize a lot of the dramatic elements on display. The story starts with an abrupt exchange that slows down to reveal greater intentions. His study of identity as it relates to the divided states is the first sign of ideas being expressed through characters casually bragging to each other one minute and unveiling their wounded history the next. It’s a mesmerizing experience that never lets up, especially as the supernatural wrinkles poke through the edges, suggesting how their culture relates to a larger and more spiritual history. If there’s a difference even to shows like The Piano Lesson, it’s that the metaphors are a bit more beguiling and intertwined, leaving elements feeling more interpretive than ever fully satisfying.
Credit must be given to The Long Beach Playhouse for making this sprawling opus work on such a small stage. While the majority of the story takes place within living rooms, there is an extended set piece in Act II where characters enter a realm full of dreamlike iconography. The play’s title refers to a boat that floats to a world holding secrets to their past, so it makes sense to use dark lighting to enhance the claustrophobia as characters wander the stage in a state of unbalanced dizziness. The soundscape creates a sense of splashing water as winds blow, building to some of Wilson’s most ambitious storytelling.
This is far from a convenient story with easy answers. Instead, it creates broad strokes for what it means to be free in the immediate decades following the Emancipation Proclamation. What is being done to make the future better? How are people working to keep harmful systems in place? Given the nearly three centuries of a central character’s age, it’s impossible to not recognize the burden of history. Everyone wants a new start, but there’s still the guilt that everything is yet to improve.
The cast does a reliable job of mixing the dramatic heft of the story with occasional bursts of humor. Like the best of Wilson, it’s very easy to sympathize with these characters whose dreams are very simple, reflective of dignified goals colliding with oppressive systems. Each character has interesting quirks that recur to enhance the metaphors, and it makes the final stretch electrifying, especially as the action happens out of sight. This is the reactionary spot, where consequences emerge and leave brutal moments out of sight. While it may not be the most streamlined show the playwright has crafted, it still knows how to boil tension and discover a world lacking in clear answers. Even the heroes have questionable moments. It’s a great way to show trust in the audience to contemplate a more ambitious picture than a few hours of theater could.
Gem of the Ocean is a curious little show that explores a period before anyone in the theater lived, and yet feels recognizable. As a study of institutions, it can’t help but feel relevant to modern situations involving freedom and question whether rights have been faithfully distributed. Is there a way forward when everyone is not on the same page? As Wilson depicts, it’s a struggle that spans centuries, even going well into the world of the ethereal. It’s a perplexing show that requires plenty to properly enjoy, but those who find the themes briskly laid out will come away with a thrilling afternoon of theater.
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