Fetch Clay, Make Man

Playwright Will Power was taken aback when he saw a photo taken just before the rematch between Muhammad Ali and Sonny Liston in 1965. Seated next to Ali at a press conference was Stepin Fetchit, an African American actor who had become largely reviled by the black community because of the negative stereotypes his characters had amplified in the 1930s. Power wondered, what was behind this odd juxtaposition?

The answer comes in Fetch Clay, Make Man, his accomplished work now playing at the McCarter Theater. Though the script gets bogged down with a lot of exposition, it manages to pack a wallop, as the representatives of two different eras of black American history meet head on.

The play has two settings: the lockerroom in the days just before the Ali-Liston fight, in Lewiston, Maine, and the office of William Fox, who ran the Fox movie studio, in 1931. In 1965, Ali summoned the largely forgotten Fetchit (his real name was Lincoln Perry), ostensibly to pick his brain on his remembrances of Jack Johnson, the first black heavyweight champion. In particular, Ali wants to know about the "anchor punch," but Fetchit says he doesn't know anything about it. Ali's main assistant, Brother Rashid, a former hoodlum turned into a devoted acolyte of Elijah Muhammad, bristles at the presence of Fetchit, but Ali's new wife, Sonji, is more cordial. Fetchit pegs her as a woman who is only play-acting at being a Muslim.

The scenes in Hollywood are meant to give us a clearer picture of who Fetchit was, as he out-foxes Fox in contract negotiations and then, a few years later, is told that he can not give interviews where he speaks excellent English. Fox tells him that the movie-going public is comforted by the stereotype of Stepin Fetchit--a lazy, shiftless Negro--and that he should live that character off screen as well as on. Fetchit agrees to do so, for a thirty-percent pay raise.

Back in Maine, Fetchit and Ali form a bond, and Fetchit participates in the pre-fight press conference, embarrassing everyone by defending the character of Uncle Tom. Ali still wants him around, though, thinking Fetchit will tell him about Johnson's punch.

All of this is presented in dazzling style by director Des McAnuff, who uses mixed media to tell the story (the play ends with photos of the real Ali, most notably the iconic Neil Leifer photo of him standing victorious over a knocked-out Liston). Power, who runs a hip-hop theater, just goes to show that certain elements of drama are universal--the play is conventionally, even squarely constructed, with some clunky bits of exposition. The scenes in Hollywood are the clumsiest, with Richard Masur as Fox struggling to find a character in a role that is essentially a plot device.

The other actors are fine. Evan Parke is Ali, and what a role to attempt. For many years he was the most famous man in the world, and his persona oozed genius from every pore. Parke steers clear of a strict impersonation, though the familiar cadences break in, especially when Ali rhymes. John Earl Jelks, as Rashid, is brilliant as the man who wants to keep Ali on the true path of Islam, and his questionable past rears its head every now and then. As Sonji, Sonequa Martin is also very good.

But the evening belongs to Ben Vereen as Fetchit. Vereen, best known as a song-and-dance man, is a natural entertainer, and convinces us that Fetchit was one as well, but where he really shines is expressing the dual nature of the man--he made millions playing the "coon" but in reality was an intelligent, proud black man. He was also always on the hustle, as he sees dollar signs by making friends with Ali. He thinks they should make a movie together, directed by John Ford, but Ali hesitates at that choice, thinking Ford would have him killed off by a cowboy.

I wouldn't be surprised if this play has long legs, and even makes it to Broadway, but who knows in this economic climate. It deserves a shot at the title.