Palm Beach Dramaworks Finds the Man Behind the Martyr in ‘The Mountaintop’

 

Katori Hall’s ‘The Mountaintop’ begins not with history’s public moment but with its imagined private foremath—Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. alone in Room 306 at the Lorraine Motel on the night before his assassination. Earlier that evening, he had delivered the now-prophetic “Mountaintop” speech at Mason Temple, speaking of a promised land he might never reach.

 

Hall has said the play was inspired by a story from her mother, Carrie Mae, who as a teenager longed to hear King that night but, at her own mother’s urging, stayed home “It would be the greatest regret of my mother’s life,” Hall recalled, adding that the fear and foreboding surrounding King’s final days became part of her “bloody heritage.”

 

From that personal history came a work that mingles the spiritual and the intimate. In Hall’s imagining, King’s solitude is interrupted by a motel maid named Camae—named for her mother—who compels him to confront his life and legacy, “warts and all.” He is no longer just an icon, but a man of humor, fear, and doubt, a human being vulnerable like the rest of us.

 

Hall infuses the play with passion and magical realism. Director Belinda (Be) Boyd makes the magical element feel organic, suspending disbelief as Camae’s true identity—as an angel guiding King toward another promised land—slowly emerges. When rose petals fall from heaven confirming her purpose, the effect is otherworldly yet utterly convincing in the hands of Boyd and her gifted creative team.

 

Palm Beach Dramaworks’ production stars Christopher Marquis Lindsay (in his PBD debut) as Martin Luther King Jr. and Rita Cole as Camae. Their chemistry commands the stage; both give performances that are inspired and deeply moving.

 

Lindsay’s portrayal captures a man on edge—pacing, restless, as much fixated on his missing Pall Mall cigarettes as he is tormented by the refrain, “America’s going to hell.” From the opening muttered parody of “My Country, ’Tis of Thee' (“My country who doles out constant misery”) to his vision of a multicultural America “banding together to shame this country,” Lindsay channels King’s anguish over what is—and his faith in what could be. His performance moves through the stages of grief until, bargaining exhausted, he accepts his fate with grace. The actor disappears into the man.

 

Cole nearly steals the show as Camae, the “new maid” who seems to know far too much. She listens lovingly as King speaks to his family on the phone, her eyes betraying both empathy and knowledge. Her line, “Nonsense comin’ out of a pretty woman’s mouth ain’t nonsense at all—it’s poetry,” feels like a credo for her performance.

 

She’s electrifying as she playfully dons King’s jacket, climbs on the bed, and delivers the militant speech she imagines he might give, King acknowledging “Maybe the voice of violence is the only voice white folks will listen to.… They hate so easily and we love too much.” What begins as a humorous oratory reveals a painful truth.

 

As Camae transforms from maid to angel, Cole’s intensity deepens. When King asks whether the future is “as beautiful as you,” her rueful and ironic “It’s as ugly as me” feels prophetic. He replies, “I wanna see it.” She warns, “It might break your heart.” That exchange leads to a stirring montage of images—courtesy of projection designer Adam J. Thompson—tracing the march of history since King’s death, much of it steeped in violence but culminating in images of our first black President.

 

Boyd directs with loving precision, orchestrating moments of laughter and tenderness amid tragedy. A pillow fight, a tickle fight—each moment of levity heightens the pathos that follows. The one-act, intermissionless play moves briskly, yet allows room for emotion and reflection. Lindsay and Cole, both consummate professionals, own the stage.

 

Nikolas Serrano’s scenic design captures the Lorraine Motel in painstaking realism—the neon sign glowing ominously through rain that turns to snow. Genny Wynn’s lighting and Roger Arnold’s sound accent the drama with lightning, thunder, and shifting tones. Brian O’Keefe’s costumes root us in 1968, right down to the holes in King’s socks.

 

If you are of a certain age, the assassinations of the 1960s remain seared in memory: John F. Kennedy in 1963, Malcolm X in 1965, Martin Luther King Jr. in 1968, and two months later, Robert F. Kennedy. Those events are etched in our hearts as much as our history.

 

The hopeful ending of The Mountaintop feels hard-won—and, given today’s climate of anger and division, perhaps fragile. The violence and intolerance King sought to overcome still haunt our politics and our streets. The baton he passes in the play seems to fall from our grasp again and again. Yet as this production reminds us, we must keep reaching for it, believing—as King did—that the arc of history can still bend toward justice.

 

Palm Beach Dramaworks’ ‘The Mountaintop’ captures that fragile faith with beauty and power. Lindsay’s demeanor and voice become King’s at that final moment, transcendent and sonorous, feeling like he is reaching out through the fourth wall, urging us to continue the work he could not finish. It is another Palm Beach Dramaworks ‘must see’ production, a stunning beginning to the 2025/26 season.

 

All Photographs of Christopher Lindsay and Rita Cole by Curtis Brown Photography

 

 

Palm Beach Dramaworks Unveils a Stark Portrait of Parental Desperation

 

Dangerous Instruments by Gina Montet receives its world premiere at Palm Beach Dramaworks in a searing, emotionally charged production. Told through a series of vignettes spanning a decade, the play traces the downward spiral of Laura, a single mother desperate to secure appropriate educational and emotional support for her intellectually gifted but emotionally challenged son, Daniel. It’s a damning portrait of an educational system ill-equipped—and increasingly underfunded—to meet complex, individualized needs.

What could have become a piece of overt social commentary à la Dickens is instead elevated to compelling drama under the sensitive direction of Margaret Ledford. At its center is a stunning performance by Savannah Faye as Laura. Faye captures the vulnerability and ferocity of a mother fighting a system that insists on blaming her rather than helping her child. Her performance anchors the play with authenticity and emotional depth.

 

Savannah Faye by Curtis Brown Photography

Montet’s play was one of five selected for the 2023 Perlberg Festival of New Plays. Of the piece, the playwright says: “Several of the characters blame Daniel’s problems on Laura, which I think is representative of our culture in general. That’s the default setting: blame the parent. I’m trying to tell the other side of the story—to say, ‘What if the parent did everything she could, and it wasn’t enough?’”

The production resonated all the more for me after recently viewing the 2024 West End revival of Next to Normal, a rock musical that also examines how systems fail those with complex needs. Like Next to Normal, Dangerous Instruments critiques one-size-fits-all solutions that ignore the nuances of individual cases. Both works highlight the human cost of a society that refuses to prioritize education and mental health. There are no happy endings here—and that’s precisely the point.

Faye’s performance is especially noteworthy as this marks not only her PBD debut but also her professional acting debut. Her raw, deeply human portrayal builds to a heartbreaking crescendo when she pleads, “Help us. Please? He’s still my baby… he’s my baby… my baby.” It’s unforgettable.

 

Matt Stabile and Savannah Faye by Curtis Brown Photography

Also making their PBD debuts are Matt Stabile as Paul—Laura’s one sympathetic counterpart, despite his professional obligations—as well as Jessica Farr and Maha McCain, who nimbly play multiple roles. PBD veteran Bruce Linser is a standout in dual roles as an emotionally detached principal and a quietly empathetic police officer.

The design team powerfully supports the production’s themes. Samantha Pollak’s sterile, institutionalized cinderblock set becomes a visual metaphor for Laura’s imprisonment within an uncaring system. (Pollak herself is a Dreyfoos School of the Arts alum, making her Florida design debut.) 

 

Roger Arnold’s sound design makes use of both Sesame Street-esque tunes and a haunting recurring theme of “Frère Jacques,” subtly asking: “Are you sleeping?”—a pointed critique of societal apathy.

Brian O’Keefe’s costumes trace Laura’s decline through poignant wardrobe changes, mirroring her dwindling resources and psychological state. Lighting by Dylan B. Carter and video design by Adam J. Thompson add dimension to the narrative, particularly through shadows of children and faux news-style interviews with the play's educational professionals, each justifying their actions. Director Margaret Ledford uses these video segments to chilling effect: everyone was “just doing their job.” So, who’s accountable?

Dangerous Instruments is a serious, sometimes devastating work.  It hits hard because it feels all too real. Yet, Paul, with a new red folder in hand, closes the show with a glimmer of hope.  We see a silhouette of a young child arriving for school suggesting the possibility of change.  But is hope enough?

 

History Echoes Loudly in an Outstanding Revival of ‘Camping with Henry and Tom’

 

Could the parallels to today be any clearer?  Mark St. Germain wrote Camping with Henry and Tom some thirty years ago as an historical speculation.  Yet its themes have proven enduring and the Palm Beach Dramaworks production leavens the play’s comedic elements, shining a light on contemporary political discourse.

The play is based on the fact that inventor Thomas Edison and industrialist Henry Ford did go camping every year with their friends John Burroughs, the nature writer, and Harvey Firestone, the tire manufacturer.  They called themselves the Vagabonds.  In 1921 they invited President Warren G. Harding who accepted. 

Enough of the facts; playwright St. Germain imagines such a trip with Harding only accompanied by Edison and Ford followed by a tailing secret service agent, in this engaging 3-hander-plus-1 dramedy.  It is a fascinating character study of an “accidental” President, who would rather just bask in the glow of approbation shaking hands on the White House lawn, along with the ultra right-wing Ford (a wannabe President), and the cynical inventor, Edison, who interjects much humor and truth into the mix.  Indeed, if history doesn’t repeat itself, it certainly rhymes with this production.

John Leonard Thompson, Tom Wahl and Rob Donohoe

 

The plot is straightforward: the three are on their way to escape their normal (but famous) lives to a camping ground in a Model T Ford, with Henry Ford at the wheel after furtively arranging the trip to elude the press and secret service as well.  They encounter a deer on the road, damaging the car, although its three occupants are OK (but not so much the deer who amusingly hangs on for most of the play), and suddenly we have a substantive play of dramatic confrontations and comic interactions, Ford having an agenda, clearly analogizing the play’s themes to the temper of our times. 

Director William Hayes has a definite vision for setting the mood, beginning with his version of a silent movie of the trip up until the unfortunate rendezvous with the deer.  He establishes a slapstick foreshadowing of the many laughs yet to come, which gives the audience a reason to like all the characters until the tone gradually changes and the afternoon wanes into evening.

He blends this into a breathtaking set by Bert Scott, consisting of a small clearing in the woods outside Licking Creek, Maryland.  The set has three dimensional elements of the woods as well as a seemingly functioning fire pit right on stage, giving the play a fitting verisimilitude.  The audience feels it can reach out and feel the flora.  A Model T Ford completes Scott’s perfect scenic design.

Hayes has assembled three company veterans for the major rolls.  They’ve acted together on the PBD stage so many times that this production soars as a tightly knit ensemble production.  Hayes keeps their performances cohesive and well-integrated in spite of their diverse personalities discussing their families, fame, and failures.  He allows his actors’ arcs to shine, from Ford’s baleful plans to becoming crestfallen, from Harding’s acquiescence to redemption and then acceptance, and Edison from comic foil to change agent.

John Leonard Thompson plays the obsessive Henry Ford, envisioning unlimited energy from a hydro-power project he hopes to steal from the government (hence, cornering and blackmailing President Harding on this trip ), as well as becoming the next President of the US, enlisting his “sociology boys” to gather dirt on Harding.  It is blackmail pure and simple under the guise of patriotism.  Thompson knows how to win over the audience as he relates some home-spun tales of his life and his admiration of Edison, as well as revealing his damaged relationship with his son, Edsel, but he also shows the very dark side of his character in musing what he would do “with the Jews.”

Ford delivers some eerie comparisons to today’s politics: “I want to knock some rust off this government!  I want to give it back to the people and boot the moneychangers out of the temple so fast.  It will make their heads spin.  The shylocks and the socialists who don’t believe in a honest day’s work, and suck our teats instead….I want to fix this country and put it back on the road again, and that’s why I’m going to be the thirtieth President of the United States!”  Or, in thinking about running, and his deficiencies as a public speaker, he proclaims that “I’ll just pay the best people as to how to say it and what to say.”  Thompson, a frequent actor on the PBD stage, gives yet another stand-out, memorable performance such as his portrayal as Teach in American Buffalo fifteen years ago.

Another PBD veteran, Tom Wahl, who plays Warren Harding, assiduously peals away the layers of his character.  It is a deceptively difficult role.  The buoyantly optimistic, hail-fellow-well-met characterization by Wahl becomes an exuberant epiphanic portrayal of being released from the bondage of an inauthentic self.  It took the rising conflict with Ford in the play for this realization to emerge and Wahl embraces the moment, reveling in it with great comic chops, a fantasy of being free from the burdens of the presidency and his wife (who considers her husband a trophy President)!  His is a truly remarkable performance, among many throughout the years at PBD.

I haven’t counted them, but I would guess that in spite of the long theatrical resumes of his two costars, Rob Donohoe has had the most frequent appearances on the PBD stage.  The variety of his performances has been staggering, and his role as Thomas Edison in this play is another triumph.  It is delivered with a Mark Twain sense of humor and cynicism, self-deprecating and continuously ornery, with philosophical observations about “the damned human race.”  He admonishes Ford for his extravagant view of their accomplishments, pointing out their inventions just made things easier, not necessarily improving the world: “we’re toymakers; don’t get noble on me, Henry.”  Or his observation about “the great American fairy tale of Justice.”

Yet for most of the play, Donohoe’s intensity is in hibernation, released finally by demoniacal plans of Ford.  His portrayal is transformed from observer to becoming a bold antagonist, from comic foil to a bulwark to protect the nation from what he clearly sees as a danger, Ford and others like him whose political currency is conspiracy theories and the quest for power and money.  He recognizes Harding’s humanity and posits that it is civil servants like the secret service agent who run the government.  He also has a deeply moving epiphany, when suddenly and tearfully he remembers the name of a boy who drowned when they were both children, something he had emotionally buried, a poignant “Rosebud moment” in the play.  Superlatives are lacking for Donohoe’s performance.  

John Leonard Thompson, Rob Donohoe and Tom Wahl-photo by Curtis Brown Photography

 

Rounding out the cast is another familiar face, John Campagnuolo as Colonel Edmund Starling, a secret service man.  He is all business in his trench coat, goggles up on his forehead after finding the three of them, borrowing Edsel’s Model T.  He “takes care of” the hurt deer shocking Harding.  And off the four go, to return to civilization; things have changed to remain the same.

Costume design is by Brian O’Keefe, 1921 authentic in detail and in that moment in time.  All wear suits, and those ubiquitous straw boater hats but Edison and Harding also are outfitted in vests.  Harding has a suit for the first Act, and an identical one for the second as he has slept on the ground soiling the original one.  

Lighting design is by Kirk Bookman capturing light for the late afternoon as it wanes into night.  White light illuminates the actors in the moonlight, and while, trying to determine their compass direction, they face the warm lighting of the sunset in the west. The seemingly functioning fire pit is brought to life by very clever lighting.  

Sound design is by Roger Arnold, authentically creating the chatter of the forest, frogs, birds, and crickets permeating the production, plus the shuffling sounds of the injured deer as well as the echoes of the actors’ occasional shouts for help.  And of course the sound of the Model T’s untimely meeting with the deer, launching all that follows. 

Mark St. Germain has written such a relevant play, propitiously brought back to life at this moment in time by Palm Beach Dramaworks in a well-conceived, entertaining, but thought provoking production.  At the denouement, Edison observes that Harding has something that he and Ford lack to which Ford immediately replies: “weakness” (our current president posted “only the weak will fail” on social media last week).  Ford failed to understand that Edison meant a sense of shared human connection and understanding.