Lede Buried

Thanks to mistimed civil rights context, Two Trains never leaves the station.

· 3 min read
Lede Buried
Godfrey L. Simmons, Jr. (Memphis) and Postell Pringle (Wolf) in August Wilson's Two Trains Running.

Two Trains Running
Hartford Stage
Hartford
Through Feb. 16, 2025

Two Trains Running belongs to August Wilson’s ten-play cycle describing African American life in each decade of the 20th century. It takes place in Pittsburgh, as restaurant owner Memphis fights to get a fair price for his business as the city attempts to redevelop the area. 

The lede of the play is buried under racial and social discussions of the era. 

The play takes place in 1969, which the play bill describes as part of the Civil Rights Era. But by 1969, the Civil Rights Act and Voting Rights Act had already been passed, and the leading Civil Rights figures of the era — Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, John Kennedy — were all dead. 

That’s not to say that African Americans weren’t still struggling with realizing their rights or making a better life for themselves. But the conversation had already shifted from what white people owed us to what we were gonna do for ourselves. It was the era of the Black Panthers and Black Power, of afros and glove-clad fists at the Olympics.

In this regard, Two Trains feels dated even on its own terms. Listening to Memphis and Halloway argue about how White people have gotten over on Blacks feels like a conversation that belongs in 1959. The entire decade preceding the play was about Black people finally getting what they deserve, and Two Trains rehashes that context to the detriment of the story its trying to tell.

Most frustrating is that none of these conversations lead to anything new or interesting. When Memphis declares that it was Black people who shot Malcolm X; when Sterling comments about Risa’s cutting of her legs; when Hambone goes on about the meat that he’s owed, I just kept finding myself wondering what any of it had to do with each other, or the main thrust of the play.

So much of the dialogue between the characters felt like they were talking for its own sake. The disparate people who made up Memphis’ diner never congealed into a cohesive whole, or even into a dysfunctional one. The characters felt like mouthpieces for tropes about African American life that spent the play talking past each other instead of discussing things. I found it hard to follow who was who because there wasn’t so much characterization as there was speechifying about various subjects.

None of this is the fault of the performers, who did their best with a script that consistently presents them as broad stand-ins instead of individuals. Godfrey L. SImmons, Jr., a regular performer at Hartford Stage who always does great work, seems burdened by Memphis’ nonspecific anger. Simmons brings that anger to life admirably, whether he’s lashing out at Risa (Taji Senior, who barely even speaks in the script) or rejecting Sterling’s youthful drive for change. Why is Memphis so angry? The play never tells us, and it leads to a feeling of disconnect between the performer and the character.

Sterling, played by Rafael Jordan, is another character who comes across as a ​“hopeful youth” instead of a person. What informs his optimism, especially after spending time in prison at such a young age? Jordan plays him as bright eyed and bushy tailed, but there should be multitudes to this character that Jordan could have sunk his teeth into, because he certainly has the talent. But he and the rest of the cast are only given platitudes.

It should probably come as no surprise that I really wanted to like this play for several reasons, not the least of which is because Fences is one of my all-time favorite plays. But I suppose there’s a lesson for me in Two Trains Running after all: no one bats 1.000.

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Two Trains Running continues at the Hartford Stage through Feb. 16.

Jamil heads to Real Art Ways for the latest gallery.