In 1940, Abram Hill wrote the satirical comedy of manners On Strivers Row, which was the first production of Mr. Hill and Frederick O'Neal's newly formed and soon to be influential American Negro Theatre (ANT). The script highlights the follies of both social climbing and subtle racism among African Americans during Harlem's Renaissance. The piece has the type of strident messaging familiar to three-acter's of the time, with the first act setting up the laughs, the second paying off on them, and the third taking the audience to task for finding such social ills so funny. The play has its comedic moments and a worthy message, but like most plays of this era, it has become the type of theatre that should be seen, though more for its historical context than for its theatricality. If staged successfully, it offers a nice balance of laughter and deep thoughts. When directed by the shaky hand of David J. Hemphill and acted by the scattershot ensemble of Black Theatre Troupe, the play is a sometimes-hit-and-mostly-miss evening of random over-blocking, indecipherable line readings, and an excellent design element wasted.

The Van Strivens are one of the elite of Harlem society. Patriarch Oscar (Kwane Vedrene, pictured left) has made his money, and may lose it, on real estate speculation. Wife Dolly (Angela Kenzslowe, right) is a snob with aspirations worthy of the Astors and the Kennedys. Along with her grand dame of a mother, Mrs. Pace (Rico Burton), they are preparing for the debut of daughter Cobina (Marshelle L. Coleman), who is being courted by self-engrossed rich boy Ed Tucker (Josh Thompson), but in love with earnest poor boy with dreams Chuck (Toussaint Jeanlouis). Under the watchful eye of the equally affluent editor of the black newspaper, Tillie Petunia (Tiajuana Waters) the evening hits several snags, greatest of which is the invitation by Oscar of recent horse-betting winner Ruby Jackson (Angelica Lindsey) who wants to use her newfound wealth as a calling-card to high society. Her hangers-on, crass Beulah (Marcia Baymon) and zoot-suited poet-of-the-streets Joe (André Lee Ellis) create a ruckus and threaten the success of Cobina's introduction to society.

Mr. Hemphill has given this production the jiggly legs. He seems afraid of static moments, so he has his actors making the most useless crosses, sitting and standing seemingly at random and never with textual motivation. Worse, some of the actors seem uncomfortable with this randomness, and will often stop lines, cross to their place, plant themselves and finish their lines (Tameka C. Fox's irredeemable show-halting performance of maid Sophie is most guilty of this). His favorite device seems to be the center stage statement, where he has people move center to speak "important" lines directly to the audience, avoiding the gazes of those to whom they are speaking. There's more soap opera direction going on here than theatrical work. The result looks like a crazed chess match which only the audience loses. He has given no uniformity of presentation to his performers, and he seems to have told some to play farcical, others to play serious, and a few others to do whatever strikes their fancy at any given moment. Mr. Vedrene's Oscar appears to have been dropped into the play from a Lorraine Hansbury script while Mr. Ellis' Joe is a transplant from Zora Neal Hurston's more farcical works. Uniformity might have helped some, but it is further sabotaged by an abject disregard to diction that makes the audience strain to understand some characters, while cringing at others. I cannot tell you almost anything that Teniqua Broughton and Ms. Baymon actually said.

Few of the actors were truly bad; the problems were more about inconsistency. Ms. Burton and Mr. Jeanlouis are wonderful, bringing depth to their representative characters. Faith Warren gives an enjoyable performance as a slinky actress with loose ways, and though much-too-over-the-top, Mr. Ellis' vitality and comedic zest overcomes any problems with his diction and performance. Mr. Vedrene is successful, if lacking in charisma. However, party guests Barry Williams and Billy Williams are uniformly inadequate, never trying to deepen their smaller roles. Ms. Waters plays Tillie like a moustache-twirling villain, and her melodramatic ways are jarring in their discordance. On the other side, Ms. Kenzslowe is a two-and-a-half dimensional Dolly, only beginning to flesh out as the play returns from its farcical spiral in the third act.

The strongest element of this show is the design. Thom Gilseth's sets are a notable representation of a brownstone sitting room, while Denise DeAngelo's costumes are pinpoint accurate. Michael J. Eddy's lighting is expressive, and though Brian Burrill's sound design is well-mixed, it utilizes too few songs of the period; if I were to hear "String of Pearls" one more time, I would have strangled someone with them.

The script isn't anything to insist on remounting, but it does deserve better treatment than it has been given by BTT. The proof is onstage that dying is easy, but comedy is hard.