Pipeline is one of those thrilling intimate dramas that pulls you into its core with genuine emotion and basic human truths. Written by Dominique Morisseau and presented at Lincoln Center Theater one year after the completion of her famed trilogy, The Detroit Project, it won the Edgerton Foundation New Play Award. Every one of the well-drawn characters has an arguable viewpoint, proving that the most provocative and intelligent questions rarely have straight answers.
The entire cast of six is perfectly calibrated to provide an affecting high-energy 90 minute ride. Each character is under pressure, but despite their shared sense of oppression they simply can’t manage to give each other a break. The story opens on an earnest Karen Pittman as Nya, a teacher in a typically underfunded public school. Although she is fiercely dedicated to creating relatable materials for her inner-city students, she has agreed to send her only child Omari — an appropriately grave Namir Smallwood — to a private boarding school. He is clearly bright enough to compete academically, but privilege isn’t contagious and Omari has been undone by the environment. His long-brewing rage has boiled over during a lesson on Richard Wright’s Native Son, a controversial book often criticized for bolstering a destructive stereotype of young black men.
As mother and son work along their distinct paths in search of conflict resolution, we also meet two of Nya’s co-workers: Tasha Lawrence as a frustrated and mouthy white fellow teacher, Laurie, and Jaime Lincoln Smith’s Dun, a caring security guard who has history with Nya. Providing some lightness to the mood is a delightfully sincere Heather Velazquez as Omari’s girlfriend, Jasmine. Perhaps most critical to setting all the events in motion is Morocco Omari’s Xavier, Nya’s ex-husband who is out of step with both her and their son.
Thanks to a partnership between LCT and BroadwayHD, the work is currently available to viewers nationwide with rewarding results. Blending recordings from August 22 and 24 of 2017, Habib Azar’s direction for the screen(from stage direction by Lileana Blain-Cruz) draws the audience even deeper into the profound rage and passing joys of the characters. Significant details from a bandaid to a tremor are more visible in closeup. The short scenes are keep flowing by using film clips as bridges. Presented in three-quarter round with the audience as a classroom, this production also serves as an introduction to the jewel box of a house that is the Mitzie Newhouse.
The creative team has supported the required fast pace. Scenic designer Matt Saunders defines the space with a wall of white washed concrete masonry and simple set pieces. Location is further established using projections by Hannah Wasileski. Yi Zhao’s variations of light and shadow along with Justin Ellington’s sound work together to increase emphasis of key moments.
At a time when public schools are increasingly lacking in financial and community support, Pipeline draws sharp lines from a personal story to the bigger picture. The questions it raises are sure to linger in your heart and mind long after the last curtain call. In honor of Black History Month, Pipeline is featured with a stellar line-up that also includes 2010 Tony Award-winner for Best Musical, Memphis; American masterpiece, Porgy and Bess recorded in San Francisco’s splendid War Memorial Opera House; and the incomparable Audra McDonald in Lady Day at Emerson’s Bar & Grill. Learn more by visiting https://www.broadwayhd.com/categories/celebrating-black-artists.
The Unforgettable Line 
All Our Children
At a time when the US government has been separating families at the border, All Our Children sends an impassioned message about the responsibility we share as a society to protect the most vulnerable among us. The play by Stephen Unwin is a work of fiction based on true events that took place in Germany between 1939 and 1941. In a lesser-known chapter from that time, the Nazis sent 100,000 mentally and physically impaired people to the gas chamber. It was felt that their deaths were efficient and even compassionate since these citizens could never properly contribute to the development of the Third Reich.
The intentionally claustrophobic piece is set entirely in the office of Victor Franz, a doctor whose clinic has been repurposed to quickly diagnose and dispatch the children under his care. Director Ethan McSweeny has staged the work in the round so that the audience encircles the doctor, witnessing the slow dismantling of the acceptance he has maintained of his role in these casual murders. The audience in turn is enveloped in a wall of file cabinets which contain the children’s medical files, a powerful image in the minimalist set by Lee Savage. Somber radio music, part of Lindsay Jones’s sound design, is used to effectively illustrate the passage of time. Simple period costumes by Tracy Christensen complete the look and tone, sending us back to that horrible period.
Karl Kenzler brings a combination of gruffness and vulnerability to his role of Dr. Franz as he ping-pongs between professional obligation and personal discomfort. But the actor cannot escape the circular emotional arc with which the character is burdened. Unwin is a seasoned director and teacher and this is his first time as playwright. The results are heartfelt but thinly executed. The other four characters are drawn in stark black or white, a weakness that often plagues stories that involve the Nazis. Furthermore, Franz’s tolerance for many of his encounters isn’t properly explained or realistically motivated.
KARL KENZLER and JOHN GLOVER, Photo by Maria Baranova
Among Franz’s foils are his pious maid, Martha, (a fluttery, sweet Jennifer Dundas) a genuinely caring woman who tries to reconnect him with his sense of responsibility to heal and give comfort to his young patients. There is also Elizabetta (a too broad and harsh Tasha Lawrence) representing all the grieving mothers who love their children no matter their limitations. Most important is Bishop von Galen (the always excellent and engaging John Glover) who attempts to appeal to Franz’s long-lost soul. Counterbalancing them all is the clinic’s administrator, Eric (an appropriately oily Sam Lilja), who is not only a member of the SS, but also guilty of statutory rape. He’d be twirling his mustache if only he had one. It is only his embodiment of pure evil that eventually breaks through Franz’s trancelike state.
Recommended for ages 13 and older, All Our Children lacks nuance, but delivers on its examination of a particularly shameful practice. It is playing through May 12th in the versatile Black Box Theater at The Sheen Center, a project of the Archdiocese of New York. Runtime is a scant 90 minutes with no intermission. Tickets are $65 and $80 for general admission and can be purchased at https://www.sheencenter.org/shows/allourchildren/2019-04-06/. For those wanting to delve deeper into the topic, post-performance talkbacks are scheduled throughout the run. The play is also accompanied by an exhibit in the Sheen Center gallery, Little Differences: The Portrayal of Children with DisABILITIES Throughout History.