`Spunk' plays well, but reads better

Long before there was Toni Morrison, Alice Walker or GloriaNaylor, there was Zora Neale Hurston.

The most formidable as well as the most controversial blackfemale writer to emerge during the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s,Hurston was a trained anthropologist, folklorist and prolificstoryteller whose work fed hungrily on her rural roots.

Despite criticism by peers who accused her of perpetuatingstereotypes, Hurston (1891-1960) forged ahead, convinced that therewas something worth celebrating in the distinctive dialect andmemorable "types" that were a part of the black life she knew.

It was Alice Walker who helped bring Hurston's literaryachievements back into the light. But it was playwright George C.Wolfe (author of "The Colored Museum") who first tapped thetheatrical potential of her writing in "Spunk," his adaptation ofthree of her stories. Developed at the Mark Taper Forum in LosAngeles, premiered by New Jersey's Crossroads Theatre Company andstaged at New York's Public Theatre in 1990, the blues-infused playopened Monday night at the Goodman Studio Theatre.

I can't quarrel for a minute with Donald Douglass' stylish,richly musical direction and choreography, or with his talented castof seven. But I much prefer reading Hurston's stories to seeing themall dressed up and fussed over for the stage. There's just so muchinnate theatricality in her writing that adding music, masks, puppetsand story theater-style narration too often seems like overkill.

Nevertheless, the show has it pleasures. And best of all, itwill undoubtedly lead many theatergoers back to the printed page.

The three stories in "Spunk" are variations on that most basictheme: the relationship between men and women. One is tragic, one iscomic and one is simply wise. But all are memorable for Hurston'slush use of language, which is amplified by Chic Street Man's bluesyscore, sung throughout with fiery force by Shari A. Seals (calledBlues Speak Woman), working in tandem with guitarist Stevie Robinson.

The show opens with the grimmest story, "Sweat," about an abusedwife (played movingly by Wandachristine), who finally finds thestrength to stand up to her sadistic husband (Donald Griffin).

It moves on to "Story in Harlem Slang" (a glossary is includedin the program), a broadly farcical tale about two penniless,rambunctiously zoot-suited male prostitutes (played by the remarkablyelastic Ellis Foster and Griffin). The pair have the unmitigatedgall to try to entice a stunning woman (the enchanting JoNellKennedy, who has stardom written all over her) to treat them todinner in exchange for their sexual favors. The joke is on them.

The final story, "The Gilded Six-Bits," is the most effective,in part because it's the most simply told. It's about a poor, youngcouple (Kennedy and Robert Barnett) who are madly in love but brieflytorn apart by the wife's efforts to get a bit of gold. The highlightof the evening comes in a breathtaking blues-induced labor anddelivery scene that beautifully enhances Hurston's words rather thangilding them.