Finding Truth in Tragedy

Nigeria has been in the news again lately, and not for pleasant reasons. Just last week, 18 men were sentenced to death by stoning under an edict of Sharia law. Clearly, this is a place that doesn’t suffer outsiders, so it took considerable bravery for young, white, theater-making Dan Hoyle to show up and start asking questions. Funded by a Fulbright fellowship, he nosed around one of Africa’s touchiest powder kegs, asking questions about the saltpeter nexus between politics, local strife, and, of course, oil. Then he turned it into a show.In “Tings Dey Happen,” Mr. Hoyle bounds energetically through his portraits of the locals, as well as a smattering of American diplomats and Scottish oil engineers. He never performs as himself, instead creating a stage manager character to keep the story moving. The stage manager clearly thinks little of Dan — “People come to a play about Africa, they expect bright colors!” he tuts, gesturing at the stripped-bare stage. But his silly, opportunistic patter (he wistfully encourages us to augment his fee) provides crucial levity in the midst of a play about the corrosive qualities of Big Oil.Certainly, after decades of protest, the oil giants have begun community outreach. Shell, in fact, started to build a town hall. But in the 50 years since the drills struck crude material, the vast wealth and attendant corruption has battered Nigeria beyond the help of a single construction project. In the “creeks” — the vast expanse of the Niger Delta — rival gangs blow up pipelines, wander armed through the streets, and kidnap the unwary. One of Mr. Hoyle’s composite characters, a Texan engineer, sees abduction as part of the gamble, and boasts of his many black-baggings. And yet Mr. Hoyle kept going back.In the creeks he hangs out with prostitutes, assassins, a cheerful warlord (“When I was an activist, no one wanted to talk to me!”) and a gaggle of loose-limbed, pally youth. Despite his matey approach — aided enormously by his ability to speak the slangy street pidgin — he sees with clear eyes. He draws a particularly fine portrait of a troubled sniper who tries to throw away his gun. Mr. Hoyle, though, is soon disillusioned — that budding peacenik, it turns out, helped start a local war only a few years before.Mr. Hoyle manages to capture the staggering complexities on the ground, including the misconceptions, awkward loyalties (cooperating with whites makes a man “yellow”), and realities of money-driven diplomacy. Nigerians complain of an American military presence, while a spokesman estimates the number of “uniforms in country” in the teens. Who is right? Mr. Hoyle implies that while Nigeria still ranks in the top five sources of American oil, the question won’t ever have a straight answer.Mr. Hoyle’s facial muscles are as developed as a gym bunny’s six-pack, and they keep his face in constant motion. His enthusiasm and virtuosic mimetic ability keep the play going, even when its dramaturgical tank starts running dry. And when “Tings” loses its way — and it does, several times in its short running time — Mr. Hoyle breaks out his “stage manager” character again. After a section spoken entirely in pidgin, our guide sympathizes, summarizes, and effortlessly wins back our good graces.Since the successes of solo artist Anna Deavere Smith, theater audiences have had no shortage of multicharacter monodramas. Nilaja Sun’s “No Child …” took on an entire classroom; Sarah Jones played the crowd of “Bridge & Tunnel” to perfection. So audiences may feel broken in to the idea of one person playing many, disregarding the usual lines of race and gender. But these performers are all women of color, and with Mr. Hoyle, a white man playing a series of African characters, the old questions of appropriation pop up again.Mr. Hoyle confronts those worries head-on. He broaches the issue — yes, this is another tale of a white man in a black culture. Cleverly, though, he has been careful to keep from ever speaking as “Dan.” His characters constantly address the audience as “Dan,” effectively sticking us in his shoes. Yes, you may experience a vestigial frisson of concern — Are these characters too broad? — but Dan Hoyle is no longer the tourist here. We are.Until September 23 (55 Mercer St., between Grand and Broome streets, 212-925-1806).

Finding Truth in Tragedy

Finding Truth in Tragedy

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