“The Mountaintop”
Detroit Public Theatre
Detroit, Mich.
Through March 8, 2026
SPOILER ALERT: This review contains spoilers for “The Mountaintop.”
As soon as Brian Sullivan Taylor, who plays Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in “The Mountaintop,” took off his shoes, the first thing I noticed were the holes in his socks. It’s small, intentional details like these that make me excited about seeing plays at the Detroit Public Theatre. His swiss cheese socks are early brushstrokes in the portrait of an imperfect Dr. King — a man grappling with an immense responsibility and his humanity.
Katori Hall’s “The Mountaintop,” directed by Brian Marable, opened at DPT on Saturday, Feb. 7, and runs through Sunday, March 8. It gives us a look at the man behind the movement and takes place in Dr. King’s room at the Lorraine Motel on April 3, 1968 — the evening before his assasination. With a thunderous storm raging outside, King is visited by Camae (played by powerhouse Rebecca Rose Mims), a motel employee who has come to bring him coffee. Except, Camae isn’t a Lorraine Motel employee at all. She’s an angel who has come to escort King to the afterlife.
The rhythm of the play reminds of August Wilson’s writing, where things start off seemingly simple with subtle hints crawling underneath your skin that something is off (if you’re paying attention), leading to a point of no return where all hell breaks loose. Combined with directing and acting that skillfully highlight the nuance of humor in high-stakes situations, and fully immersive sound and visuals, DPT’s “The Mountaintop” provides an evening of entertainment and introspection, initiating a chance for the audience to reflect on our own lives.
The theme of the inherent imperfectness that comes with being human is teased throughout the play. The cigarette smoking, whiskey drinking, cursing, and flirtatious Camae doesn’t fit our idea of an angel. Even more so when she tells us of her turbulent life and the brutal circumstances of her death. King himself — a chainsmoking man, with holes in his socks, and a tendency to cheat on his wife — is not quite the saint we may have pictured him as. Camae says as much in the play. It’s like meeting someone you admire and realizing that they are just as flawed and human as you.
Earlier on the day when the play takes place, King delivers his final speech, “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop,” where he hints at his death. In the real-life speech (not in the play itself), King says:
“Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!”
The play furthers this foreshadowing of impending demise in its story-telling elements. Thunderclaps and lightning strikes are so loud in the theatre that they startle me, making me jump in my seat, almost like the ringing of a gunshot. Before we learn that Camae is an angel, we’re left to wonder how it is that she’s been able to make more cigarettes magically appear, and why she’s lingering so long in King’s room after delivering his coffee. When the play opens, we see King’s luggage sitting open on the bed. Has he just arrived or is he preparing to leave?
I recently watched National Geographic’s “Pole to Pole” featuring Will Smith, who travels from the North Pole to the South in search of the meaning of life. In one episode focused on the idea of happiness, he visits Bhutan where remote Buddhist monks tell him the secret to happiness is accepting death. It seems that King knew this, whether during his “Mountaintop” speech or by the end of the play, as he cannot escape his fate. None of us can.
Before he dies, King asks to see the future and is shown pivotal moments in the fight for civil rights including his assisination, Jesse Jackson becoming the face of the movement, and even the inauguration of President Barack Obama. He can’t believe the seeming progress we’ve made toward equality, but it all comes to a screeching halt of disappointment when he sees the current sitting president Donald Trump, who has rolled back so much progress.
King knows he doesn’t have a choice to leave his mortal life behind. But before he does so, he leaves a baton on the pillow, passing the responsibility to fight for justice and equality on to all of us in the audience. Any one of us can pick up that baton. It’s a reminder that we don’t have to be perfect to have a positive impact on humanity. We simply have to be brave.
Published in conjunction with Detroit Metro Times.
Click here to read a previous Midbrow review of the show.
