Review: 'Def Poetry
Jam' boils down to emotion-filled rhymes
By Tom Sime - The Dallas Morning News
The bad news is that young poets seem to be very angry. The good news is
they're loving every minute of their pique, as evinced by Russell Simmons Def
Poetry Jam, a showcase for stand-up poets.
The "slam" form of poetry – fueled by the energy of rap and the audacity of
stand-up comedy – started in clubs and coffeehouses. It was noticed and
packaged by the titular rap impresario, was made into an HBO series, got a
Tony on Broadway and is now on a world tour that stopped at the Majestic
Theatre on Tuesday with a cast of eight poets and a DJ.
Anger is only the showiest emotion expressed by this gifted roster of
wordsmiths. Bubbling up through the shock wave of ranting are some delicate
and tender feelings, and a healthy dose of humor.
"Don't wanna be your exotic," warns Suheir Hammad, a Palestinian-American from
Brooklyn. But all these spoken-word pyrotechnics can't help but seem a bit
exotic on the same stage that recently offered up the musical Heartland.
Nevertheless, these folks are the heartland, and they know it, even though
their anger seems fueled by the belief that no one else knows it.
The staging by director Stan Lathan is spare and straight- forward, keeping
the focus on words and bodies. DJ Jedi sets the mood with a mélange of Maze
and OutKast, heralding the cast's entrance with "These are the words of the
next America!" And out they come, generally gorgeous and demanding to be taken
on their own terms. They're tired of stereotypes and hyphenated identities.
But they share the old human weaknesses. Georgia Me, an Atlanta native, offers
an ode to Little Debbie and other goodies. "My diet includes fried everything,
all kinds of pork/People asking if I've been visited by the stork," she riffs,
turning humiliation into humor. Flaco Navaja has a comic attack reminiscent of
Chris Rock. Also hilarious is Beau Sia, a Chinese-American from Oklahoma who
insists that "You're not shutting me up until/The egg roll is recognized as an
American food."
Mayda Del Valle has the anger thing down best, and the lung power to deliver
it in extended volleys: "My so-called pre- Columbian savage/Unenlightened
ancestors/Had more humanity/Than your Microsoft/Macintosh technology/Monopoly
information highway riding bareback/On the backs of underpaid Third World
women and children ... Let me order your new world and paint the White House
brown." Whew.
It's not all Anglo-bashing. Black Ice rages at black men: "You continue to
hide your true self/Behind movie gangster disguises/Oblivious to what life's
true prize is."
Poetri's from L.A. and adds a mellow, self-deprecating and conciliatory tone
one can only hope is the flavor of the future. He also subtly calls the others
on their raging in the closing group poem "I Write America," chiding "The
people just like me,/Too busy blamin' instead of claiming/That America is the
best place to be."