Review: ‘Ain’t No Mo’

Sara Krulwich

Buckle your seatbelts, folks. We’re flying into some turbulence. And some brilliant turbulence it is. After making a world premiere at the Public Theater in March 2019, Jordan E. Cooper’s Ain’t No Mo has landed on the runway of the Belasco Theatre. Its arrival on Broadway Thursday night is a history-making milestone: Cooper is now the youngest playwright (at 27-years-old) to have their work on a Broadway stage, dethroning Lorraine Hansberry for A Raisin in the Sun. 

The 90-minute play is an anthology of sketch comedy vignettes, all strung together by the approaching African American Airlines Flight 1619: the final flight to Africa. In this seemingly dystopian depiction of the United States, the government has initiated a migration of Black Americans to Africa. Politicians have determined “the land of the free” is no longer home to its Black citizens and in return, they've provided millions a complimentary one-way ticket out.

But there’s a caveat, inspired by the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. The airport gate agent, Peaches (a dazzling Cooper), warns that if you turn around while in line to have your boarding pass scanned, you will be transformed into a white man and the memory of your Blackness will be forgotten. Peaches also watches over a sparkling piece of luggage, referred to as “Miss Bag,” which apparently contains the entirety of Black culture.

Each skit depicts a satirical, over-the-top situation dramatizing a Black experience in post-Obama America. Underneath the heightened satire, Cooper writes through a lens of realism with plenty of references to current affairs and pop culture. There are no white members of the six-person cast and yet white supremacy is still very much present onstage. Cooper seems to have taken a note from the Alfred Hitchcock handbook: never display the enemy. A white TV producer yells anonymously from above the audience. A classy white neighbor is heard worrying through the telephone. Instead, we witness how the intricacies of racism have impacted the lives of these characters, manipulating their mindsets and forcing them into conformity. 

Without delving fully into slapstick comedy, Cooper and director Stevie Walker-Webb keep the humor smart, nuanced, and intentional. The initial wit of the jokes is loony, but there’s barely a second to swallow before the viscous aftertaste of dread sweeps through the Belasco Theatre. Walker-Webb’s pacing is sublime, every punchline is loaded with ammunition. Just when we begin to wonder what exactly is going on and how it’s connected to the previous events, we’re met with the chilling realization.

Joining the cast is Crystal Lucas-Perry (fresh off her Broadway debut in Roundabout’s 1776), Fedna Jacquet, Marchánt Davis, Shannon Matesky, and Ebony Marshall-Oliver. The troupe is hilarious in their physicality, impressively portraying five different characters each. Although Cooper remains in full drag, the other actors seamlessly change costumes, dialects, and mannerisms in between scenes with the efficacy of a Saturday Night Live episode.

Joan Marcus

Ain’t No Mo examines a variety of racial mechanisms in twenty-first century America. Part of the play’s entertainment is figuring out how each discussion will be creatively unfurled; a mother at an abortion clinic fears bringing children into a country where they could be another trending hashtag amongst victims of police brutality, a “Real Housewives” parody explores the privileges granted to light-skinned people of color due to their proximity to whiteness, Peaches confronts homophobia perpetuated by passengers in line for Flight 1619, an upperclass family conceals their Blackness for the sake of assimilating into the wealthy elite, and an inmate being released from jail realizes their livelihood will never be fully returned. Just when you start questioning how much more territory can and will be covered, Cooper concludes the piece with a shocking finale. 

Ain’t No Mo is chaotic, melodramatic, campy, vulgar, and absurdist. From the pre-show announcement, which is interrupted by Peaches inviting the audience to curse and cackle, you know you’re in for a ride. It’s an imaginative departure from the standard styles of theatrical storytelling we’re accustomed to. Personally speaking, it’s unlike anything I’ve seen on a New York stage (with the slight exception of Jeremy O. Harris’ Slave Play).

It’s rare that I leave the theatre feeling heavily altered. But for me, Ain’t No Mo has earned a second viewing. Not only will it be fascinating to see how the production evolves as the team adjusts to a Broadway stage, but I’m sure there are pieces of this messy puzzle that I missed the first time around. The intense experience refuses to let anyone off the hook, but in it lays a rich lesson reinforcing to us the behaviors that can no longer be tolerated.