In “Superior Donuts,” a 2008 play by Tracy Letts, a 21-year-old Black Chicagoan named Franco Wicks takes a minimum wage job in a rundown donut shop in Uptown, but in his spare time, the young dreamer is writing what he hopes will be the next great American novel. Its title, “America Will Be,” comes from a 1935 poem by Langston Hughes, “Let America Be America Again.” Now onstage with The Artistic Home, the play quotes a short but powerful snippet of the poem:
When read in full, which I highly recommend, Hughes’ words land like a gut punch — a searing indictment of everything that our country has failed to change over the past 90 years, and a clarion call to heed our better angels.
For Franco, played by a buoyant John N. Williams, his literary ambition is sadly a dream deferred, to reference another Hughes work that seems to be on Letts’ mind here. His supportive but jaded boss, Arthur Przybyszewski (Scott Westerman), even spells it out for him at one point: “Dreaming is dangerous,” the older man cautions.
Less than two decades after its premiere at Steppenwolf Theatre, Letts’ play seems like a relic of another time, when cops walked their local beats, DVD stores could turn a profit and Starbucks was new to the neighborhood. While a few of the supporting characters are exaggerated for comedic effect, the central figures feel fresh and real under the direction of John Mossman. Westerman portrays Arthur with a comforting, grounded presence, balancing out Williams’ talkative, upbeat energy in the role of Franco. As the two men form an unlikely friendship, each drives the other to find his courage and his voice.
We learn more of Arthur’s backstory through intermittent monologues, delivered in a nostalgic glow of yellow lamplight and backed by the soft tones of an acoustic guitar (lighting design by Ellie Fey; sound design and original music by Petter Wahlbäck). The son of WWII refugees from Poland and Russia, Arthur recalls an idyllic childhood in the working-class neighborhood of Jefferson Park, followed by the unrest of the civil rights and Vietnam War eras. Firmly opposed to the war — and also, he admits, afraid — he fled to Canada as a young man to evade the draft. Since returning home, he’s lived a quiet life, running his late father’s donut shop and weathering the ups and downs of family relationships.
Though less of Franco’s past is revealed, both men have rich inner worlds that peek through despite their frustrating reticence with each other. In one sweet moment of connection, Arthur offers encouraging feedback on Franco’s novel draft, and the younger man reacts as if he’s just won the National Book Award.
The plot follows a rather unsurprising arc, but the witty dialogue, dynamic protagonists and colorful supporting cast pleasantly compensate. In one climactic scene, the physical comedy competes with the more serious undertones, but in general, the balance between humor and drama works well.
“Superior Donuts” is neither the bleakest nor the most hopeful entry in the lengthy canon of plays about the American dream; like Franco’s favorite poem, it lies somewhere in between. I’m grateful to this revival for pointing me back to the words of Langston Hughes, which are a fitting prayer for these times:
Where: The Artistic Home at Den Theatre, 1331 N. Milwaukee Avenue
