Playwright: Kristiana Rae Colon. At: Jackalope Theatre, Broadway Armory, 5917 N. Broadway. Tickets: JackalopeTheatre.org; $5-$25. Runs through Nov. 20
Kristiana Rae Colon's super-energized 2014 play explores the subculture of hip-hop slam poetry with the richest, sharpest language this side of Hamilton.
Octagon lacks a strong dramatic structure and becomes preachy at times, but sweeps past its weaknesses with high style and charisma. Colon's recent world premiere at Oracle Productions, Good Friday, was a realistic play so improbable as to be unbelievable, but Octagon is far more successful, perhaps because it isn't realistic. It's a work of verbal and emotional impressions which frequently breaks the Fourth Wall to directly engage viewers as a slam club audience, as physically realized by Shaun Renfro's eight-sided, pit-like scenic design.
The story concerns six young hip-hop poets, all regulars at the Octagon, a slam club that sends a four-person team to an annual slam championship. The racially diverse poets ( I assume Colon's play dictates this vs. the whim of a director ) go by nicknames only, such as Chimney ( Mykele Deville ), Chad ( Will Kiley ), Palace ( Eric Gerard ) and Jericho ( Tina Munoz Pandya ), who is controversial because she takes her political protests to the streets.
At the center of the story is Prism ( radiant Kiki Layne ), who exercises magnetic power over men and enjoys potentially dangerous kinky sex. At first, she's having a none-too-committed affair with fellow poet Tide ( Travis Delgado ), but that changes late in Act I with the arrival of Atticus ( Ryan Hallahan ), a bad-boy rookie poet who's willing to take on Prism without a safe word. Over them all is Pen ( Sydney Charles ), a mother figure who runs the Octagon and emcees the slams.
The heart of the play isn't the thin story about who will make the four-person slam team. ( Frankly, you won't care about that. ) Rather, it's the individual performances of the poets, for each of whom Colon has written one or more exquisite solo arias. I can't begin to convey the richness of her language, the wonderful rhythms, the deep emotions these raps touch, the sharp social commentaries which suddenly jab you and quickly flow to the next potent image. "How secure are your borders when the enemy is you?" Atticus asks us at one point, while at another Tide declares that loving Prism "is unlearning the fear of losing her, and that's all the religion I need."
Under director Tara Branham ( who also directed Good Friday ), the performers are powerful, passionate, playful and sharing. The ensemble physical work alone ( drumming and stomping rhythm ) demands unity and focus, and no performer fails. The individual characterizations exude intensity each in a different way from the others, thereby making every character memorable. In addition, sound ( Jeffrey Levin ), lighting ( Claire Sangster ) and costume ( Mieka van der Ploeg ) contribute greatly to a unique production.