Ain’t No Mo is the blackest show on Broadway. And the best Broadway show I’ve seen in a long time.
My journey to see the critically acclaimed play started off very black. It had begun to rain profusely on my trip to Belasco Theatre at 111 West 44th Street. Of course I had freshly coiffed waves, and of course I had forgotten my umbrella. As I instructed my Uber driver to get as close to the theater marquee as possible (as not to get nary a drop on my ‘do), he got a little too close to a guest who was idling on the curb, who started to shout, “Do you see me? DO YOU SEE ME?” As the irate man continued to push for a World Star Hip Hop type moment with my Uber driver, I pulled my coat over my head and went inside. I didn’t have time for drama or rain drops!
Inside, I bopped to the soundtrack that played over the loudspeakers, which ranged from Beyonce to No Limit to Juvenile (a guest got up and excitedly shook her butt to the sounds of Big Freedia). I knew I wasn’t in for your normal play.
And Ain’t No Mo wasn’t what you’d normally see on Broadway. It opened with a pastor who encouraged the congregation to yell out “N*gga” to the sounds of an organ. It took viewers from an abortion clinic to a jail to the filming of a reality show “The Real Baby Mammas of Westchester.” It wasn’t your average play and it didn’t have your average message.
Ain’t No Mo makes a statement on racism in the United States, casting black characters in a world where their life choices are limited to dying, going to jail, or starting anew in Africa with a one way ticket to the Motherland. All must be left behind, including everything Africans from the diaspora created while in the United States. If you have a problem with it, you can trade your blackness for money, fame, a casket, or a prison cell. While it sounds grim, Ain’t No Mo was thought provoking, brilliantly blunt, and laugh out loud funny. Which is why it’s so sad that December 23rd was its last day on Broadway.
Jordan E . Cooper, who wrote the film, plays a transgendered woman who checks every one in on the flight on African American Air. As theater goers gave him and his cast mates a standing ovation at the end of the play, he said, “ Last day on Broadway. We gave em a fight, didn’t we? This is only just the beginning of the fight. If y’all were touched or moved by anything on this stage, tell your friends. You never know what your voice can do, you never know what your voice can revive. Please just continue to support other black and POC shows that come to Broadway…This show was for the people. For those who have never set foot in a Broadway theater or any theater because they don’t know that they’re welcome. They don’t know it’s accessible. We’re undoing the work of white supremacy. I can feel that some people feel uncomfortable [when I say that], but we’re not talking about white folks, we’re talking about white supremacy. We don’t believe it’s real.”
He continued, “That third balcony in Belasco theater was reserved for colored folks. They had their own entrance to go up there and sit up there. I just want to thank my ancestors. The idea that we were limited to a space up there, but someone can be twerking on a chair down here. That is liberation. We liberated this space every single night. We gone continue to do the work to liberate. Dance as much as you want to dance. Laugh as much as you want to laugh. This is our space too. I love you for being here. Thank you and GOD bless you.”
So here’s my voice to tell you: Ain’t No Mo should be required viewing for everyone in America. There’s no equality unless all of us are equal. There is no freedom until we’re all free.
Follow the show on Instagram @AintNoNoBway to see where they go next.
Images: Sone JR
