Thurgood

Gratuitous Violins rating: **** out of ****

This week's decision by the California Supreme Court to overturn a ban on gay marriage is the latest in a long line of battles to expand civil rights in America that have been waged - and won - in America's courtrooms. All of those struggles can be traced back to the landmark 1954 Supreme Court ruling in Brown vs. Board of Education that outlawed school segregation. In a unanimous decision, the justices said that separate can never truly be equal.

In the 1950s, before he became the nation's first African-American Supreme Court justice, Thurgood Marshall, of the NAACP's Legal Defense Fund, was known as the lawyer for Linda Brown. She was the young black girl in Topeka, Kan., whose family wanted her to attend school closest to where she lived, a school that was designated for white children only.

Marshall's story, and the story of the fight to end legalized segregation in the United States, are brought to life by Laurence Fishburne's wonderful, totally absorbing performance in Thurgood, a one-man show playing through July 20 at Broadway's Booth Theatre.

When I was a young, I remember watching on television one-man shows with Henry Fonda as Clarence Darrow and James Whitmore as Harry Truman. Through their mannerisms and manner of speaking they became those men. I'm sure that a one-person show has got to be one of the most difficult roles for an actor. You're out there in front of an audience all alone, walking on a tightrope, without a net. Yet they pulled it off. And Fishburne is absolutely their equal. Quite simply, his performance blew me away. I totally suspended disbelief and felt like I was watching Thurgood Marshall tell me the story of his life. I just hope someone tapes this for posterity.

This was my first time seeing a one-person show live. Before I went, I was a little afraid that it might be a slightly dry recitation of the facts, something that was more good for me than entertaining. But Thurgood is immensely entertaining. And Fisburne is mesmerizing as he takes us on a journey through Marshall's life. While George Stevens Jr.'s 90-minute play takes the form of a lecture Marshall is giving at his alma mater, Howard University Law School, I never felt like I was being lectured at, but rather regaled by a masterful storyteller.

The set, by Allen Moyer, is simple but works fine - a long oak table, a lectern and couple of chairs. Elaine McCarthy's projections on a stucco-colored flag on the back wall - the Supreme Court building, a sharecropper's shack, a sign pointing to the balcony of a movie theater where black patrons were forced to sit - give us a feel for the time and place where these events in Marshall's life are occurring.

And under Leonard Foglia's direction, Fishburne, almost always in motion, is a commanding presence on stage. I was in the third row, on the aisle, so when he sat down, he was literally right in front of me. There was one point when I wanted to sneak a glance at the other side of the stage, but I didn't dare take my eyes off of him - he was looking right at me, or at least that's what it felt like.

Fishburne makes Marshall a very compelling character, but also folksy and very human - blunt at times, funny and self-deprecating, honest when talking about his shortcomings. Marshall comes across as a towering figure, totally determined to fight the evil of segregation, someone who was fierce in his beliefs, never wavering from his convictions on issues that were important to him, such as his opposition to the death penalty. And as a bonus, Fishburne does a terrific impression of Lyndon Johnson.

I knew the outline of the story from Simple Justice, Richard Kluger's excellent, detailed history of the Brown case. But Fishburne really brings those facts to life as he weaving together all of the different strands of Marshall's life - growing up in Baltimore, his decision to become a lawyer, the triumph of the Brown decision, the pain of losing his first wife to cancer. And his passionate delivery makes the 14th Amendment to the Constitution, with its equal-protection clause, sound practically like poetry. There's also one very funny anecdote about a white lawyer who joins the NAACP legal team that I remembered from the book, but hearing Fishburne as Marshall recount it truly brought home the difference between reading a story and hearing it.

When we think about the fight for civil rights, the first things that come to mind are Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream" speech, Rosa Parks refusing to give up her seat on a bus, peaceful protesters being attacked by police dogs and fire hoses. Those are all important things to remember. But that's only part of the story. What Fishburne reminds us of so forcefully in Thurgood is the equally important other part: the hours spent putting together cases, researching and writing legal briefs, arguing before judges who weren't always kindly predisposed to African-American lawyers.

It's a simple idea really: equal justice under law. Those words, engraved on the front of the Supreme Court, include far more Americans today than they did a half century ago. While we have a ways to go to truly include everyone under the banner of equal justice, we've certainly come a very long way. And for that, as Laurence Fishburne demonstrates so compellingly, we have Americans like Thurgood Marshall to thank.

Postscript: I've gotten a few queries asking whether Laurence Fishburne comes to the stage door after the show to sign autographs. At the Sunday matinee I saw, he did not come out. But there was someone at the door who would take your Playbill inside and get it autographed.

Broadway times two

When I reviewed the current Broadway revival of South Pacific, I mentioned that if you combine it with August: Osage County, you have a perfect pair of bookends for the Greatest Generation that grew up during the Great Depression, fought and won World War II, and sired the baby boomers.

South Pacific is the idealized, romanticized beginning of the Greatest Generation - full of youthful optimism and self-confidence. August: Osage County is when it all comes crashing to an end, in old age and illness, in a torrent of anger and bitterness. Together, they'd make a very interesting and thought-provoking day at the theatre.

Well, I've been thinking about some other shows that would make great Broadway double features. Here's my list so far:

Thurgood and Hairspray: Ok, this one's practically a no-brainer. They're both about the civil-rights movement. Hairspray takes place in Baltimore, and Thurgood Marshall was from Baltimore. I understand that one is a musical about a fictional character and the other, starring Laurence Fishburne, is a one-man play about a legendary civil-rights lawyer who became the nation's first African-American Supreme Court justice. I'm not trying to make light of Marshall's achievements by comparing the show to Hairspray, and I haven't seen Thurgood yet. But they both recall an important time in American history, one that changed this country in profound ways. They're both about the power of the individual to affect change. And I think, or at least I hope, that they both have the ability to educate and inspire as well as entertain.

Passing Strange and Sunday in the Park with George: I've only seen SITPWG on DVD, with Mandy Patinkin and Bernadette Peters. But like Passing Strange, it's about the process of creating art and all of the struggle that involves for the artist. In one case, it's a painter working on a canvas, in the other, an aspiring musician trying to compose a song. They both examine all of the people and events that pass through an artist's life and help to inspire his or her work. I also think that Passing Strange bears more than a passing resemblance to The Wizard of Oz, so pairing it with Wicked would work, too.

Wicked and The 39 Steps: Both of these take classic films and reimagine them in very creative, inspired ways. Ok, The 39 Steps is pretty much a word-for-word retelling of the Alfred Hitchcock movie, as opposed to Wicked's expansion of the story and characters we know from The Wizard of Oz. It doesn't take the story any further or expand our understanding of it the way Wicked does. Still, despite the differences, I think these are two interesting examples of taking material from another source and putting it on stage.

The Lion King and Macbeth: Yes, one's from Disney and one's a bloody Shakespearean tragedy about a power-hungry Scottish general that's clearly for an adult audience. But let's examine the plot of The Lion King: a young prince, believing his uncle is responsible for his father's death, tries to avenge the crime. I'm not the first to notice that it bears a strong resemblance to Hamlet. I'll be taking in both The Lion King and the current revival of Macbeth, starring Patrick Stewart, next month, although not, unfortunately, on the same day. But close enough for comparison.