‘The Half-God of Rainfall’ – Written by Inua Ellams. Directed by Taibi Magar. Movement Direction by Orlando Pabotoy. Scenic Design by Riccardo Hernández. Lighting Design by Stacey Derosier. Sound Design and Music Composition by Mikaal Sulaiman. Projection Design by Tal Yarden. Orisha Movement Consulting/Choreography by Beatrice Capote. Costume Design by Linda Cho. Presented by American Repertory Theater in co-production with New York Theatre Workshop. At Loeb Drama Center, 64 Brattle St., Cambridge, through Sept. 24.
By Shelley A. Sackett
Will we ever become inured to the other-worldly team at American Repertory Theater and its ability to sprinkle fairy dust on Boston’s theater scene? With “The Half-God of Rainfall,” now in production through September 24, the answer is a resounding “No!”
It helps that Nigerian native Inua Ellam’s sinuous play is a masterful blending of unlikely ingredients: Greek mythology and Nigerian Yoruba spirituality, a war between mortals and gods, basketball, toxic patriarchy, white supremacy, female empowerment, and maternal love. Couple that with a script crafted as an epic poem, a stellar cast that works as a seamless ensemble, and breathtaking choreography, lighting, and sound designs, and well, you have all the makings for a night of unparalleled theatrical pageantry.
The scope and ambition of Ellam’s work is staggering.
It’s hard to describe the multilayered and, at times, opaque plot. Using basketball as both ground zero and allegory, Ellam creates a new myth about the half-god, half-mortal Demi (Mister Fitzgerald), born to human Nigerian high priestess Modúpé (Jennifer Mogbock) after she is brutally raped by the Greek titan god, Zeus (Michael Laurence).
The genesis of the rape is even more chilling. As stand-ins for superpowers, Zeus and Sango (Jason Bowen), Greek and Yoruba gods of thunder, bet on a race. They agree to “boys-will-be-boys” terms as a settlement. The winner gets to take a member of the loser’s world as a prize.
When Zeus wins, he takes Modúpé as his deserved own, to do with as he pleases.
Demi grows up in a poor Nigerian village, gradually becoming aware of his extraordinary abilities to flood the land with the water from his tears and defy gravity with his basketball wizardry. He learns that basketball is more than a sport when he leaves Nigeria for the Golden State Warriors and superstardom. There, he earns the nickname “rainmaker” and rules the courts with his uncanny proficiency.
Yet all is not quiet on Mt. Olympus, where the gods (and especially Zeus) see all. One of the play’s lighter moments is when Nigerian American player Hakeem Olajuwon (Bowen) visits Demi and explains that all the great sports players are demi-gods but that Zeus forbade them from participating in mortal sports after Michael Jordan almost blew their cover by flying on the court. In defiance, Demi sets his sights on the Olympics, daring Zeus to descend from Olympus and stop him.
Examining sports culture and the way it informs and mirrors the best and worst of human behaviors is not all Ellams has up his sleeve, however. At 90 intermission-less minutes, he has ample time to address other meaty themes such as rape and its resultant PTSD, the burden of being a single mother, free will, female solidarity, Black feminism, and the #MeToo movement. And address them he does, with sensitivity, candor, and gusto.
Rather than hammering polemics, however, Ellams weaves important points into the fabric of the plotline by having his characters humanize and personalize them. “What teaches males to take what isn’t given?” Modúpé asks the river goddess Osún (Patrice Johnson Chevannes). Later, she describes how she was able to love her son Demi, despite the fact that his existence was borne of and is a reminder of such pain and trauma. “My body is my body. But my mind – I can’t control it. He (Zeus) took from me control of myself, but he gave me you,” she tells her son, implying that a mother’s love for and connection to her child supersedes all else.
Ellams pens another intriguing exchange between Zeus and Demi as they discuss who is better off, all-powerful gods or mere mortals. Surprisingly, an introspective Zeus shares that even though he fears he (and all gods) could become insignificant to mankind, he is even more threatened by the fact that humans have free will and can choose how to live. As the last free half-god, Demi has one foot in each world; he is half free but also half stuck in Zeus’ world of rules and obligation.
While the play presents challenges in terms of understanding the actors’ accents, hearing their voices and following the entwined and often confusing stories, the actors’ physicality and sheer force of production pyrotechnics provide ample balm. “Half-God” defies pigeon-holing. Part Magical Mystery Tour, part modern dance concert, part art installation, and all ingenious invention, “Half-God of Rainfall” is a must-see for anyone curious about how far the envelope of theater can be pushed. Once again, A.R.T. positions itself as the undisputed leader of the pack with another groundbreaking and thought-provoking production. For tickets and information, go to: https://americanrepertorytheater.org/
