Debuting on Broadway in 1961, Ossie Davis’ play Purlie Victorious is an overstuffed but angry comic riposte to the entrenched racism in the South as well as the rest of the country. Even Martin Luther King famously attended a performance of the original production at the Cort (now James Earl Jones) Theatre.

 

It’s 62 years later, but not much has changed—we’ve even gone backward in some ways. The still relevant play, set in “the Old South of the Recent Past,” is about Purlie, an itinerant preacher-con man, whose latest ploy is to fund his reclaiming of the local church by getting the $500 willed to their dead Cousin Bee that’s being held by Ol’ Cap’n Cotchipee, the racist landowner for whom the preacher’s family works as sharecroppers. Purlie brings along a naive young woman who worships him, Lutiebelle Gussie Mae Jenkins, to impersonate Bee. 

 

Davis obviously knows this plot is ridiculous—witness his winking subtitle, A Non-Confederate Romp Through the Cotton Patch. And if the play has too many easy laughs, it also has some horrifyingly funny observations about Black and whites that obtain today. After Purlie and Lutiebelle arrive, he speaks with his no-nonsense sister-in-law Missy about Purlie’s brother Gitlow, who might be an obstacle to their getting the money:

 

MISSY He ain’t as easy to stop as he used to be. Especially now Ol’ Cap’n’s made him Deputy-For-The-Colored.

PURLIE Deputy-For-The-Colored? What the devil is that?

MISSY Who knows? All I know is Gitlow’s changed his mind.

PURLIE But Gitlow can't change his mind!

MISSY Oh, it’s easy enough when you ain’t got much to start with.

 

As this exchange shows, there’s a lot of rat-a-tat-tat dialogue in Purlie Victorious. Franticness is built right into the play, and director Kenny Leon pushes the cast to accentuate it in both the physical comedy and the cutting words for an animated 100 minutes. Leon also gets great assists from Derek McLane’s elastic set, Emilio Sosa’s lively costumes, Adam Honore’s snazzy lighting, Peter Fitzgerald’s impeccable sound design and Guy Davis’ apposite music. 

 

The rich performances gleefully play with and tweak racial stereotypes. Gitlow is given comic gravitas and a mournful musicality by Billy Eugene Jones and his outstanding song interludes. The redoubtable Jay O. Sanders (he of the stentorian voiceover of many PBS documentaries) is a screamingly hilarious Cap’n, intentionally—and perfectly—overdone. 

 

Noah Robbins, as Cap’n’s son Charlie, who’s hoping to distance himself from his dad’s racism, and Vanessa Bell Calloway as Idella, Cap’n’s housekeeper who raised Charlie like her own son, provide solid laughs. Heather Alicia Simms’ Missy gives as good as she gets with vicious comebacks to Gitlow or Purlie. Kara Young—already earmarked for Broadway greatness with recent appearances in Clyde and Cost of Living—gives a master class in physical comedy as Lutiebelle, expertly using her body like a contortionist, along with minutely changeable facial expressions that bring to mind masters of TV’s golden age including Milton Berle and Lucille Ball.

 

Then there’s Leslie Odom Jr.’s Purlie, a delicious star turn that plays to the audience at every turn. His innate charm and formidable stage presence make us riveted to whatever he does, whether it’s confronting Cap’n or giving a stirring speech in church. Odom grabs Davis’ satisfying satire and makes it even more urgent—and entertaining.