Living Green

Despite its setting in pre-“postracial” 1995, Living Green asks a question that is still crucial nearly 15 years later: What responsibility do those who have risen above their circumstances into a lush, “green” life bear for those who remain behind, in the gloom of the city? Clunie’s play is identified as an homage to A Raisin in the Sun; where Lorraine Hansberry’s Younger family blazes the trail of integration in 1950s Chicago, Frank and Angela Freeman and their two teenage children, who all comfortably negotiate the minutiae and milestones of suburban Chicago life—running for the school bus, rising property values, home renovations—reach a perplexing new plateau. Do they return to, or remain thankful for their escape from, the old neighborhood?
Clunie takes time to establish the daily life of these immensely likeable characters, but at the cost of their more pivotal moments feeling expedited. While his wife observes that “we can’t all be Rosa Parks,” Frank, fearing that their kids are “heading for a white life,” takes son Dempsey to participate in the Million Man March; upon their return, the family decides to return to the city and to take in a bright teenager from the old ’hood. Similarly, Clunie’s symbolic connections to Hansberry’s masterwork—specifically the thriving plant that signifies Mama Younger’s quest for a verdant new home—are heavy-handed. But even if Clunie’s machinations are blemished, the chemistry within the enormously appealing and natural cast (particularly the rock-solid Ann Joseph as Angela) reaches back and raises the play above the obvious.




