In the turbulent aftermath of the killing of George Floyd and the Black Lives Matter protests that subsequently erupted, multiple sectors of society have had to take a long hard look at themselves. Theatre has not been exempt from this process, liberal and inclusive though it has always liked to pride itself on being. It has thrown itself into a vigorous interrogation of issues of representation and “gatekeeping”, of who gets to tell what stories to what audiences in which sort of venues. All of which makes this revival of African-American playwright Alice Childress’s 1955 drama at British theatre’s premiere venue doubly relevant: Childress’s theme is racism, bias both conscious and unconscious, in Broadway theatre.

We’re in the agreeably cluttered backstage area of a New York theatre on the first day of rehearsals for a new play. Banish instantly all thoughts of amusing backstage high jinx in the style of Noises Off, as experienced black actress Wiletta Mayer (Tanya Moodie) gives newcomer John (Daniel Adeosun) a piece of unvarnished advice on working in a white-dominated theatre world: “White folks can’t stand unhappy negroes.” Young white actress Judy (Emma Canning) sits awkwardly apart from her four black colleagues. Veteran black performer Sheldon (Cyril Nri, glorious) is obsequious and placatory to everyone. There are, it is evident, long-studied roles to be played way before the actual business of mounting a production.

For all his love of new-fangled Method acting techniques, tyrannical director Al Manners (Rory Keenan) wouldn’t dream of going so far as to listen to what the black members of his company have to say about the experience of being black in America. The play-within-a-play is a horrible-sounding melodrama called Chaos in Belleville, about a lynching on a southern plantation. 

The white actors get all the important speeches – one of them questions the use of the word “darkie” in Belleville’s script – while the black performers are limited, once again, to “character” parts: singing, lamenting and, in the case of Sheldon, sitting and whittling a stick for two hours straight. The Belleville scenes in rehearsal are played in the style of a hallucinatory farce; one understands director Nancy Medina’s intentions, but the decision doesn’t quite pay off, dragging the action almost to a standstill. Overall, despite its unimpeachable contemporary relevance, this production stubbornly, frustratingly, refuses to take full flight.