August Wilson’s Fences - Leeds Playhouse ★★★★

Fences are built for two purposes – to keep folk out, or to keep them in – so says Bono, an ex-con who’s had experience of both sides. Surrounding the set, this fence holds within its bounds a fury-fever, lovers’ passion and a desolation of dreams.

The sixth of August Wilson’s Pittsburgh Cycle, which explores the experiences of Black Americans across the twentieth century, Fences focuses on one complex, blended family. Rose is the second wife of Troy, and Cory is their son. Another son, Lyons, is from his first marriage and is still partly dependent on handouts.

At first glance, this family is familiar – Friday night drinking for Troy after a long week hauling trash with his loyal friend Bono – some ‘locker room’ chat whilst Rose is indoors cooking chicken and collard greens. But there’s an edge – the clapboard wall which separates the inside and the out, must surely absorb some of the banter, and it’s not for the ears of a wife. As the play progresses, the themes darken, and it becomes clear that Troy, the husband and father, carries the hurt of his past and the bitterness of his crushed ambitions.

Given the theme and the setting, the ball, which dangles from a rope on a tree, instantly sends a shudder, but this time it represents a lost hope – Troy’s potential as a baseball player was never realised because of the colour of his skin. Another bitter blow in a long experience of disappointments from his childhood with an abusive father. Making the narrative more challenging is Troy’s frequent divergences into storytelling – some of his past is narrated verbatim, but at times he elaborates, lies or omits details, which would make him a more credible character. Ray Feron pitches his performance perfectly. The outer veneer as a loving husband and supportive father is convincing until the latter stages of the play when it cracks, and another character emerges.

This piece, which never leaves the family’s backyard, is dependent on the richness of the language, and the cast uniformly deliver performances of enormous stature. Madeline Appiah as Rose is stunning, managing huge emotional shifts across the explosive arc of the story, whilst the two sons, Michael Ahomka-Lindsay and Josh Tedeku deflect the conflicting shifts of their father – their responses writ large.

Jim Bono (Everal A Walsh) is the wise, steady and powerful presence; yet conversely, it is Gabriel (Josh Tedeku), Troy’s brother, who lives in a world of his own making, who transpires to be the better barometer of the emotions, signalling the shifts with his whispering trumpet.

Designer Jai Morjaria’s flowing ribbons of light, which illuminate the edges of the set, are enough to signal shifts of scene and time, and the silhouettes behind the windows offer small insights into life in the troubled home.

This Pulitzer Prize-winning drama, directed by Daniel Bailey, is nuanced, powerful and ultimately gripping. The conflict of feeling created by anti-hero Troy, the abused abuser resonating far beyond this stage.