The Def Poets' Society

By Tricia Olszewski - The Washington Post

"If you enjoy spoken word, make some noise!" At the Warner Theatre on Saturday night, this odd beckoning is followed by spins from an onstage DJ who warms things up with the sounds of Ludacris, OutKast and a blast from the past, Rob Base and DJ E-Z Rock's "It Takes Two." Though the crowd doesn't exactly erupt -- enthusiasm will come later -- there is enough of a response to indicate that everyone knows what he's here for: It's the "Russell Simmons Def Poetry Jam," and this audience is ready to get its verse on.

Simmons, the pioneering rap impresario and founder of Def Jam Records, created the "Def Poetry Jam" for HBO. Similar to its "Def Comedy Jam" predecessor -- an uncensored showcase for up-and-coming and largely African American talent -- the "Def Poetry" series debuted in 2001 and was soon blown up into a theatrical production that went to Broadway in November 2002.

The touring show that came to the Warner featured several of the nine performers who played on Broadway. And though only eight poets, plus musical host DJ Jedi, were slated to appear in each city, the D.C. production included all 11 performers in the traveling "Def Poetry" arsenal.

The cast is young, multiracial and full of flava. Over beats that the poets gamely groove to, each offers a rationale for writing, such as wanting to contribute to the public consciousness stories of "brown girls who live small-town lives" or of a "Jamaican man who has never smoked weed." The works were hardly as stereotype-shattering as all that, but most were entertainingly foulmouthed and full of slam style.

Topics ranged from the ho-hum (Georgia Me's big-is-beautiful paean, "Full Figured Potential") to the whimsical ("Krispy Kreme," by Cedric the Entertainer clone Poetri), but most of the poems were variations on a theme: "Sometimes, it's hard to be a [blank]." Luckily, even the angriest of the ranters refrained from wading in self-pity. Instead they presented their outsider-in-America perspectives with occasional poignancy and lots of humor, one of the most enjoyable being "The Asians Are Coming," which Chinese American Beau Sia delivers with hilarious alarm: "We are everywhere! Programming your Web sites, making your managers look smart, getting into your schools for free -- and we're not just kissing other Asians, oh no!"

More or less avoided is gushy love stuff, though a few of the artists discuss the tired poetry subject with tongue in cheek. (Lemon's "Love Poems" claims that such trifles "don't pay the rent.") Things do get lusty -- in "The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of," the show's four women talk about acts that "come not from submission but from caring" -- but most of the performers' passion is aimed at matters outside the bedroom.

Discrimination against one's own people is given equal time among the cries of injustice and best demonstrated in one of the evening's funniest and least PC performances, Shihan's infomercial-like "Negro
Auction Network": "This Negro talks loud in movie theaters, restaurants, libraries and anywhere else quiet is appreciated. This Negro will caricature the entire race until no one expects anything from the blacks."

All 11 of the poets have great stage presence, with powerhouse voices that often made music out of their fast-paced, tight rhymes. The three-poet bonus, however, proved double-edged: The show's 90-minute run time stretched to two hours, and even those audience members who gave the most vocal shout-outs would have to agree there may be such a thing as too much spoken word.