PlayMakers Repertory Company's "Confederates" is Profound and Thought-Provoking

Mengwe Wapimewah in Confederates. Photo by HuthPhoto.

Two seemingly disparate settings—a plantation during the Civil War era and a college during the present day—lie at the heart of Confederates, a thought-provoking play by Dominique Morisseau, which is now gracing the PlayMakers Repertory Company stage. Under the smooth, skillful direction of Christopher Windom, this play explores the surprising connections between those two time periods, showcasing both how far we’ve come as a nation and how far we still have yet to go, not to mention the perilous grasp we currently have on that progress. This show, while billed as a comedy, reminds viewers that all the gains achieved in terms of equality could easily be stripped away, presenting a particularly pressing and timely message that slices deeper than the production’s comedic moments.

In fact, the show opens with something far from comedic. The modern-day protagonist, Sandra (Kathryn Hunter-Williams), a college professor, has found herself the victim of a targeted attack. Someone has placed a picture of a Black woman nursing a white baby on her office door, and they’ve pasted Sandra’s face over the woman’s. As viewers watch her deal with her shock and suspicion, as well as her own biases, they also get to see her interact with others in the college atmosphere, including a gifted but troubled student, Malik (Kristofer Wilson), who often feels singled-out by her, her seemingly-doting student worker, Candice (Elizabeth Dye), and a fellow Black professor, Jade (Tia James), with whom she has a tenuous relationship. This relationship is one of the most interesting in the production. Sandra and Jade feel a strange alliance with another, as well as a sense of competition, and both actresses give nuanced performances that give viewers much to think about. 

As mentioned, however, Sandra’s story isn’t the only one on display here. The audience also travels back in time to meet Sara, an enslaved woman. Energetically and endearingly portrayed by Mengwe Wapimewah, Sara finds herself in a sticky situation when she’s asked to begin working in the “main house” and spying on the plantation owner by none other than his daughter, Missy Sue, a budding abolitionist with problematic behaviors and some disingenuous notions of her own. Sara’s troubles are also compounded by her brother, Abner, who has escaped to fight for the union and who frequently needs Sara to help and protect him. The fact that Missy Sue and Abner are played by two familiar faces—Dye and Wilson—adds another smart layer to the story and forces viewers to think about the connections between each character. These two aren’t the only actors doing double-duty either. James also reappears in these scenes as LuAnne, a fellow enslaved person who competes with Sara in her own subtle ways, striving, understandably, for some semblance of control in her life. 

As these two stories play out, Windom’s assured direction and Lex Liang’s clever set design, which effectively showcases both worlds, keep the production moving along without a hitch. The transitions between past and present never feel overly jarring or abrupt. Instead, the story moves along naturally, as if these characters’ lives were always meant to be intertwined and, as the ending reveals, they truly always have been.

To divulge the full depth of that connection would be to give away too much of the story, but the ending is a nice touch, a final “falling into place” that reiterates to viewers what they have already learned during the show’s brisk 90 minutes: we cannot fully escape the past. 

Indeed, Morisseau’s script is unafraid to confront some harsh realities, like the fact that, even when people try to be the best versions of themselves, they’re often haunted by their own biases and imperfections. And, while there are no simple answers here, viewers are certainly left with plenty to contemplate.

Despite the gravity of the issues explored here, there are moments of lightness and laughter within the play. Wapimewah and Wilson share an easy, believable chemistry as brother and sister, one that helps to bring both characters alive and cement them in the minds and hearts of viewers. Likewise, Hunter-Williams and James play off of each other in tense, believable ways, and neither characterization is villainous. Instead, they both portray real, imperfect people ensconced in an equally imperfect system. Dye also gives a memorable, often hilarious performance, creating two characters who are equally frantic, conflicted, and confused, though in different ways, and Wilson’s portrayal of Malik is brooding and intense in a quiet, mysterious kind of way. He is also given quick on-stage wardrobe changes that improve the story’s flow and aid in the seamless passages from one time period to the next.

This play is, in many ways, an uncomfortable one, but it’s also very funny, very human, and very moving. It’s educational in the best way. It elicits thought without slamming a singular message or moral down viewers’ throats. Instead, it merely presents two stories, two worlds and asks viewers to think about the connections that lie between them and what they should do, armed with this new information, once the curtain closes.