Liz Lauren
The cast in period costume includes a boxer jumping in the air.
Reginald André Jackson, left, Dee Dee Batteast, Jamal James, Brain Mani and Jaylon Muchison in 'The Royale.'
Just before the biggest boxing match of Jay “The Sport” Jackson’s life, his manager Max spells out the stakes. “You’re going to go in there. You’re going to knock him out in three. Your name’s gonna get written in history, and not in Black history Jay, not in white history either Jay. In something better. In sports history.” That is the dream of the main character in Marco Ramirez’s play The Royale — to transcend race and earn the title of world champion heavyweight boxer, not just the best Black athlete to step into the ring.
Under the deft direction of Tyrone Phillips, a taut, moving, emotion- and action-packed production of The Royale in the indoor Touchstone at American Players Theatre will run through Sept. 27. But this stunning piece is about much more than boxing. The poetic, layered play based on real events explores the personal cost of fighting against systemic racism and the reality of race-related violence in turn-of-the-20th century America.
Jamal James is Jay, a seasoned, successful boxer who literally towers over everyone around him. Powerfully muscled, justifiably cocky, driven but perfectly controlled, Jay is a master manipulator in and out of the ring. He toys with his less experienced, less agile opponents. He crafts his boxing matches for maximum engagement with the crowd. He works a room full of disdainful white reporters like a master of PR, giving them exactly enough information to keep them interested and refusing to let them get a rise out of him with inflammatory questions. He is everything that white America disdains in 1910 — a smart, erudite Black man in a position of growing social and economic power, who is on the verge of demonstrating that his athletic prowess is far superior to a white challenger.
James displays incredible range in this physically and emotionally demanding role. Over the course of 90 minutes he veers from placid confidence to raw vulnerability to a seething need to drive progress forward. In Jay’s final match, James utterly transforms, his breezy, well earned arrogance is undercut so completely that each nagging doubt is writ large on his suddenly transparent face. He is utterly fascinating every minute he is onstage.
His sister Nina is the only one who can cut through Jay’s polished facade with a single look or a word. Portrayed with gravitas by Dee Dee Batteast, Nina also towers over the other cast members both in stature and in her proper, straight-backed manner. As successful as her brother has been, rising to the top of his sport, she has been successful in chasing the (white) American Dream. With a smart, ribboned, straw hat perched on her perfectly coiffed hair, and her corseted figure dressed in a fashionable blouse and floor-length skirt, she is the picture of a modern, middle-class woman. (The simple but evocative costume design is by Yvonne L. Miranda.) With two ambitious sons at home — including one who wants to be a doctor — the future appears bright for her family, five decades after the Civil War. But only if she and her boys can escape the wrath of a violent, racist society that will only allow Black achievement to go so far.
Batteast’s Nina has the heartbreaking task of asking her brother Jay to throw the match to prevent rioting that will kill innocent Black bystanders. Her eyes almost overflowing and her voice measured, her anguish is as plain as her disapproval in Jay’s preference for young white women to meet him in his hotel after bouts.
Jay’s foil is a young boxer nicknamed Fish (Jaylon Muchison) who wears all of his very large emotions on his sleeve. Inexperienced in the ring and in the world, he is passionate, eager to please, and desperate to make a name for himself. Others predict that after working as Jay’s sparring partner, Fish will follow in the acclaimed boxer’s footsteps, becoming the next generation of Black athlete, and one who may compete on a more level playing field. But like Nina’s children, his future is threatened directly by Jay’s success.
Reginald André Jackson gives a great performance as Jay’s weathered and weary coach, Wynton. A former boxer who remembers less civilized times for the sport, he laments being treated like an animal in fights for the amusement of white men, and is cautiously optimistic about the change that Jay’s success could create. Jackson holds the audience in his hand during a monologue towards the end of the play. When he yells, “Keep your head up!” from outside the boxing ring it’s more than a comment on the champion’s form. It’s a reminder to retain his dignity.
Brian Mani rounds out the cast, as Jay’s manager and fixer. Thanks to some clever staging, he also plays all of the reporters at a press conference, with an array of distinct character voices.
As much as the actors own this piece about rising stakes and life-changing decisions, the story of The Royale is made even more vibrant by Phillips’ staging, which is fluid and stylized. Carefully choreographed hand claps and foot stomps by the entire cast give the fights urgency and percussive weight. A small platform at the back of the stage is used either for simultaneous scenes or for characters appearing in memories. A practical bell that announces each round of the fight cuts through the slightly hazy stage space, colored in shades of brown.
As the final results are announced from the “fight of the century” a glass shatters and the audience instantly feels the pain of damage that cannot be undone. It is a brilliant piece of staging and a punch in the gut at the end of a play about the fights that have to be waged, but can’t be won.
