Someone must not have told Clyde, played with a relentless and overwhelming authority by Michelle Elaine, that she’s running a diner not a makeshift prison.
Lynn Nottage’s Clyde’s has made its way to Houston’s Ensemble Theatre after its 2021 world premiere on Broadway and its subsequent productions across the United States where it was listed as the top most produced play of the 2022-2023 season. The laughs were loud and never-ending during this comedy that manages to elevate a simple sandwich to the highest of metaphors on life and redemption. Directed by Shirley Jo Finney, this play soars with dynamic performances and a hysterical script.
Clyde’s is a truck-stop diner that’s beginning to get a reputation for its delicious and creative sandwiches. However, sandwich artists or culinary heavyweights aren’t preparing the food. Rather it’s Montrellus (Timothy Eric), Letitia (Krystle Liggins), Rafael (Michael Leonel Sifuentes), and Jason (Wesley Whitson) — all ex-convicts.
Everyone who works at Clyde’s has served prison time — including Clyde — but their names aren’t on the building. Clyde’s is. Clyde towers over her employees and is quick to intimidate, criticize and demean them whenever they question her cruelty. Elaine’s enthralling performance of such a harsh and funny antagonist is one to behold. Her strut reeks of condescension and her mouth shifts so quickly from an invective barb to a comical joke that she never becomes too cruel to appreciate.
Weirdly, you kind of grow to look forward to seeing her. Elaine never casually enters a scene. She bulldozes in, creates a storm, and leaves the audience wanting for more rain. More bodycon dresses. And more wigs. Deme DeMore, the hair and makeup designer, and Krystal Uchem, the costume designer, nail down Elaine’s character to a fine point. Her garish prints and luridly rich colors announce her domineering presence before her mouth can.
Her unique wigs and corresponding makeup looks stir up the feeling that maybe each appearance might be different. Will this be the time that a more generous, understanding Clyde finally reveals herself?
In any other production, a performance like Elaine’s would have overshadowed the other members of the ensemble, but this cast dazzles. Liggins endears the audience with her uninhibited and charming performance of a single mother in an off-and-on relationship with a man she knows she shouldn’t want. Sifuentes comes along with his unbridled hip movements and earnest affection to turn this workplace comedy into a workplace rom-com.
Eric’s stolid presence as Martellus could have veered into the mystically cartoonish, but Eric succeeds in balancing the almost Zen-like Buddha philosophies he has created around the sandwich with a real-world sincerity that makes his words ring as dialogue rather than platitudes. Whereas his other three co-workers have their moments of storming into the kitchen due to tardiness or panicking over backed-up orders, Eric is never in a rush or pressed for time. His composure grounds him and makes what he says feel true.
Whitson gradually falls into rhythm with the cast just as his character falls into rhythm with the kitchen making for an apt parallel. In a moment of conflict between Jason and Clyde, Jason calls out Clyde for her cruelty and outright calls her “mean.” In response, Clyde chillingly states, “talk to me about cruelty. I’ll teach you about perseverance.”
When Martellus enters the restaurant with a newspaper article with a good review of the sandwiches, he and the rest of the kitchen staff get excited about the future of the restaurant. However, Clyde reminds them that they don’t deserve the possible success due to their past crimes and warns them not to “get too hype on hope.”
There are many standout lines of dialogue throughout the play but that one in particular highlights Clyde’s caustic negativity. In the beginning, her commitment to hire ex-convicts seems altruistic and benevolent. It’s difficult for ex-convicts to find employment. Over the course of the play, it’s clear that all they are and ever will be to her are ex-convicts.
She doesn’t hire them because she wants to give them an opportunity and help them develop into better people, she hires them because she thinks they are easy to control. Clyde runs the diner like she’s a warden not a manager. She is so emotionally detached in her interactions with others that it becomes clear that Clyde is in a prison of her own making, and she can’t help but project her misery onto others.
Clyde’s bussing tables or her taking orders are never seen. The customers are never seen. Instead, Clyde’s is experienced through the kitchen staff. Clyde’s is Martellus, Letitia, Rafael and Jason. In a moment of thematic assistance from the set design (Joyce Milford), the Clyde’s sign on stage points toward the kitchen. The magic and continued success of Clyde’s diner doesn’t come from Clyde’s personality. Instead, it comes from the labor of ex-felons who work in the kitchen preparing the food.
Watching the kitchen staff slowly become freer and more outspoken against Clyde’s cruelty highlights how cultivating a passion or discovering one’s purpose can empower people to be better and want better for themselves. Their aspirations free them from the prison of Clyde’s cumbersome cynicism.
Clyde’s is a hilarious comedy that balances thoughtful insights on life with well-placed jokes. This production excels at letting the humor reign supreme without ever overstating itself. After a tight 90 minutes, it leaves you feeling good with a hankering for a good sandwich.
Performances continue through April 16 at 7:30 p.m. Wednesdays and Thursdays, 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 2 p.m. Saturdays and 3 p.m. Sundays at The Ensemble Theatre, 3535 Main. For more information, call 713-520-0055 or visit ensemblehouston.com. $37-$53.
This article appears in Jan 1 – Dec 31, 2023.
