Good Bones, Studio Theatre, Washington, DC

 

Cara Ricketts (Aisha), Joel Ashur (Travis), and Johnny Ramey (Earl) in Good Bones at Studio Theatre. Photo by Margot Schulman.

“This house has good bones” is one of those realtor-speak phrases, meaning that the house is foundationally sound, but needs work – probably lots of it – in order to make it habitable. Just as “cozy” is realtor-speak for “really small,” a house with “good bones” is a fixer-upper. Proceed with caution.

“Good Bones” happens to be the title of an HGTV show as well, in which a mother and daughter duo take on the task of rehabbing abandoned homes in Indianapolis. It is also the title of a world-premiere play by 2022 Pulitzer Prize winner and 2023 Tony nominee for Best Play (for Fat Ham) James Ijames, now playing at Studio Theatre’s Milton Theatre. The subject here is gentrification, but unlike the stereotypical gentrification, in which trendy, privileged Whites move into run-down neighborhoods, filling them with Whole Foods and Starbucks, to replace the (stereotypically) impoverished Blacks, the gentrifiers here are an attractive, affluent Black couple. Not only are they Black, but the wife, Aisha, spent much of her childhood growing up in a nearby housing project.

According to the program, Good Bones is set in “The kitchen of a townhome in a city not unlike Washington, DC or Philadelphia, PA or New York, NY or San Francisco, CA. An American city that is now too expensive for most people to live.” I didn’t read that description until after I saw the play. I immediately assumed it to be Washington, taking place not far from (and possibly within blocks of) where we were sitting, at the corner of 14^th St. and P St. It rang that true to me.

Aisha and Travis are successful professionals, trying to complete the renovations on their “good bones” home before the imminent birth of their first child. The work is being done by Earl, a young man from the same housing project where Aisha grew up. She was anxious to get out of the neighborhood but now, as a successful civil engineer, has chosen to come back toward – but not exactly to – the neighborhood she was so anxious to leave. Earl has stayed, a part of the neighborhood, taking pride in restoring some of the old homes that had been occupied by well-established and respected members of the Black community.

For Earl, these houses are not just shells of homes that had been formerly occupied: they figuratively house the bones of previous occupants, their histories, and legacies. Perhaps not just figuratively, as Aisha experiences several inexplicable instances of hearing noises and voices in the house. Who lived there and what they did can never be totally erased; the “bones” from the past will always be there. 

Unlike Aisha, who came from a disadvantaged childhood, husband Travis comes from a well-heeled and well-established Black family, whose money and influence have enabled him to have a career as an entrepreneur, restaurateur, and chef, despite not having completed a college degree. When Earl asks what kind of food is served at his restaurant, Travis calls it “upscale Southern.” When Travis explains what that consists of, Earl says, “Soul food.” Exactly, but Travis defends his use of “upscale Southern” as a descriptor that would be more inclusive. In other words, White patrons would be much more likely to eat at an “upscale Southern” restaurant than a “soul food” restaurant.

Joel Ashur (Travis) and Cara Ricketts (Aisha) in Good Bones. Photo by Margot Schulman.

One summer night, Travis and Aisha are kept up by loud music being played in the neighborhood. Outraged at not being able to get to sleep and over Aisha’s objections, Travis calls the police to complain about the noise. They will send a squad car, he says, which should solve the problem.

The next day, Earl shows up for work with one arm in a sling. He is vague about what happened. As some very frank and sometimes painful conversations follow, Earl learns that Aisha comes from similar circumstances to his. After learning about the phone call to the police, Earl asks why they didn’t approach the people who were making the noise. Travis explains that he didn’t know “those people,” and that the neighborhood could be scary, even violent, so he did the best thing he could think of, call the police.

This is the point of (perhaps) no return. Aisha has gone from being “of the neighborhood” to referring to those just like she was in the past, as “those people.” Travis’s decision to call the police was exactly what White residents would have done, without considering what might come from a confrontation between the police and the Black residents. There are tense confrontations during an awkward dinner prepared by Travis to thank Earl for his hard work on their renovations. Travis is unaware of the confrontational conversations Aisha has had with Earl. Earl’s sister Carmen, a college student, comes to dinner as well. When Carmen and Aisha meet, as Carmen is assisting the injured Earl with some painting, Earl notes the instantaneous code-switching Carmen engages in as she and Aisha form bonds talking about Black sororities. Earl is in for more surprises from Carmen when she tells him she is now a vegetarian and that she is interested in “someone,” but when she explains that her “someone” uses the pronoun “they,” Earl just doesn’t quite understand.

Clockwise from left: Cara Ricketts (Aisha), Johnny Ramey (Earl), Deirdre Staples (Carmen), and Joel Ashur (Travis) in Good Bones. Photo by Margot Schulman.

It is Change, with a capital C, that scares Earl. While he has an intellectual understanding that change is necessary, there is too much, too fast for Earl’s tastes. Still, his words have had a profound effect on the couple, as we see in a brief epilogue to the story, which perhaps ties things up a little too nicely. We hear the sounds of a neighborhood party, then learn that Travis and Aisha have taken Earl’s words to heart. They are now a part of the neighborhood; Travis is even a block leader of sorts. Cradling her newborn baby, Aisha presents a new tranquility. Perhaps this is the reason she has come “home.”

As Aisha, Cara Ricketts successfully negotiates the fine line between who she was and who she has become, but she becomes fierce when necessary to counter Earl’s criticism. She seems to enjoy a positive chemistry with Joel Ashur as her husband Travis. Their interchanges demonstrate Ijames’s ability to write naturalistic dialogue between a married couple, real and often filled with humor. Travis is almost naïve (or clueless) in failing to understand the consequences of his actions. Ashur is immensely likable, though the script makes him a bit of a buffoon. Travis wordlessly making a salad while performing an energetic dance to Stevie Wonder’s “Superstition” is fun, but it fails to reveal anything new about the character and, frankly, wastes the audience’s time. (The play clocks in at approximately an hour and 40 minutes, without intermission, and could be improved with judicious editing.)

Johnny Ramey as Earl has the play’s most difficult role, in part because of the character’s confrontational style. After having turned down Aisha’s invitation to dinner, Travis persuades Earl to reconsider, setting up what we know will be fireworks. Ramey is earnest in his performance, deliberately withholding information until he cannot hold back any longer. Deidre Staples is on-point as Earl’s sister Carmen, whom he has described to Aisha as being just as “bougie” as she is. (“Bougie” is an often- disparaging term for those who indulge in a fancy lifestyle.) Carmen sticks up for herself while attempting to defuse some of Earl’s indignance.

The director overseeing all of these changes in tone and pacing is Psalmayne 24. He has the good fortune of working with set designer Misha Kachman, who has created the well-apponted, almost-finished “dream kitchen” Aisha wants. Costume designer Moyenda Kulemeka has a good time with the trendy, colorful clothes for Aisha and Travis, as well as more pedestrian clothes for Earl and a bit of both for Carmen. Lighting designer William D’Eugenio and sound designer Megumi Katayama modulate their respective media for maximum effect.

Good Bones is a world premiere, but as is often the case with new works, it could use some reexamination before it is presented again. As with the home Aisha and Travis are refurbishing, the play has “good bones” and could, with some changes, turn into a play that could become a staple of regional, university, and community theatres. Good Bones continues through June 18.