208.
THE LONELINESS OF THE LONG DISTANCE RUNNER
Sheldon Best. Photo: Ahron Foster.
In
1962 Tom Courtenay shot to stardom as the title character in Tony Richardson’s
excellent film, THE LONELINESS OF THE LONG DISTANCE RUNNER, based on a short
story by Alan Sillitoe. Sillitoe was one of Britain’s crop of “angry young men”
writers, such as John Wain, Kingsley Amis, and John Osborne, then gathering
acclaim. Having grown up in a working-class family, Sillitoe had strong
resentments against the British class system, which prevented upward mobility
in the working classes, even with the increase in postwar prosperity and
consumerism brought on by Labour Party policies. His screenplay now has been
adapted as a play by Roy Williams, and is being given a fine production at
Atlantic Stage 2 under Leah C. Gardiner’s crisp direction (with a brief but excellent
fight scene staged by J. David Brimmer).
Patrick Murney and Joshua E. Nelson. Photo: Ahron Foster.
Sheldon Best, Malik Yoba, and Zainab Jah. Photo: Ahron Foster.
The story has been updated and the
central character, Colin Smith (Sheldon Best), is now Afro-British, his accent
and that of his mother (an excellent Zainab Jah) suggesting West Indian
backgrounds. Colin’s recently deceased dad (Malik Yoba), an outspoken
socialist, appears as a bathrobe-wearing ghostly figure who enters sporadically
to spout leftist theories to his son, even when he’s in swaddling clothes. The
play takes place against the background of the race- and class-related riots
that took place in England in 2011, and we see videos of Prime Minister David
Cameron condemning the violence, to Colin’s distaste. Colin is a 17-year-old contemptuous of
authority and bitter and resentful about his limited opportunities, yet resistant
to the idea of getting a job; one night he burglarizes a bakery with his
friend, Jace (Joshua E. Nelson), for which he is sent to a reform school or
borstal, where he must use his wits to survive the taunting of fellow prisoners
Luke (Patrick Murney) and Asher (Eshan Bay). He takes to long distance running as a
way of mentally escaping his daily woes, and his superior ability is noticed by
the prison counselor, Stevens (Todd Weeks), who convinces Colin to compete in a
cross-country race against the students of a posh public school. Colin is
allowed the freedom to train by running freely in the nearby woods for an hour
every day. While running, Colin finds himself lifted to another plane, where he
finds a stress-free euphoria absent from his troubled daily life. Stevens does
everything he can to encourage Colin, but Colin can’t accept the fact that he’s
anything but a means for the prison to gain prestige at his expense. He’s torn
between his desire to win and his disgust at what he thinks are Stevens’s and
the borstal’s ulterior motives in exploiting him.
From left: Malik Yoba, Zainab Jah, Joshua E. Nelson, Sheldon Best. Photo: Ahron Foster.
Sheldon Best and Todd Weeks. Photo: Ahron Foster.
Based as it is on a screenplay, the
drama is highly episodic, going back and forth between the borstal and Colin’s
pre-borstal days, yet it moves from one scene to the other quite smoothly via
Lauren Helpern’s flexible scenic arrangement of sliding translucent panels
combined with Pauline Lu and Paul Piekarz’s excellent video and still projections
and Michael Chybowski’s effective lighting. The main scenes are in Colin’s
apartment, where he challenges his mum’s boyfriend Trevor (Mr. Yoba); in the
streets, where he and Jace pick up two girls, Sandra (Sydney Sainté) and
Kenisha (Jasmine Cephas Jones, very good), the latter becoming Colin’s
girlfriend; in the borstal; and in the woods, where Colin runs. 
The
running scenes are what make this play most memorable, as Colin must run in one
place, usually facing straight toward the audience but sometimes shifting
directions, as video projections intensify the sense of movement. Mr. Best, who
specializes in physically demanding roles, has the extremely challenging job of
speaking numerous lines, largely in monologue form, while running in place. (The
original London production used a 25-foot treadmill.) When others run with him,
it’s only for brief stretches, and they usually fall behind before disappearing
or stopping to rest. Mr. Best, who wears a loose tank top and shorts (courtesy
of costume designer Bobby Frederick Tilley II) throughout, regardless of where or
when a scene occurs, has a wiry, muscular frame and looks every inch the runner;
if any performance could be said to be a workout, this is it. The running
scenes are reminiscent of last season’s THE JAMMER, seen on this very same
stage, which created the illusion of skating in a roller derby. One drawback
here is that by having to speak so many lines while running, Mr. Best needs to
maintain a high energy level that bleeds too often into his non-running scenes
and gives his overall performance a sustained note of angry intensity that needs
more variation and subtlety. If he’s thinking contemplatively while sprinting
along, why need it be at such volume and passion? Also, playing quiet scenes
when you’re trying to catch your breath must be very difficult. Mr. Best’s feat
itself is distracting, in that you often find yourself wondering more about the
actor’s physical condition than the emotional and psychological issues he’s
experiencing. Still, you have to give this guy props for his tour de force
of athletic stage acting.
Despite several flaws, the story remains engrossing,
and the job of moving it into today’s world has been done smoothly enough. It
sometimes lapses into self-conscious polemics when Colin and Stevens go head to
head on social issues; there are too many repetitions of Colin correcting
the way people pronounce his name (Coal-in); and there’s a dearth of humor in
the generally dour atmosphere. While THE LONELINESS OF THE LONG DISTANCE RUNNER
doesn’t have the resonance or significance the film version had in 1962, there's enough here to warrant a visit to W. 16th Street, but my advice is walk, don't run.