By Dave Begel Contributing Writer Published Dec 13, 2014 at 10:36 AM

The country is currently engaged in a discussion about race and politics with a depth and passion not seen since the civil war battles of the 1960s

It would seem the perfect time to stage "Dutchman," the hour-long play by LeRoi Jones that was an incendiary sensation when it first appeared in 1964. The play is a metaphor for all that is white about America and what it means to be a black man in that America.

Even though this is 50 years old, the story has a special resonance in today’s world. It is America the temptress in the character of Lula and the tempted black man in the character of Clay.

The play takes place on a subway car where Clay, studious and buttoned up in his black suit and tie, sits reading a newspaper. Enter Lula, the carnal vixen who sets her eyes on Clay to lure him into a web of something resembling deceit and betrayal.

There is such a misogyny about this that it turns the stomach. Clay succumbs to the blandishment of a promise of getting laid at the end of a long and tortuous night following Lula through the streets of New York, up five flights to her tenement apartment and finally, at long last, doing the nasty.

There is nothing subtle about this play. It hits you right between the eyes and fulfills the mission of The World’s Stage Theatre Company, a troupe that delights in pushing the envelope. An empty envelope, however, is nothing more than an empty envelope.

This is a play that is all about momentum, leading us along, recognizing ourselves and people we know, until the end when Clay explodes with all the rage of the black man buried under oppression.

It is that very momentum that is missing from this production. Instead of weary and frightening seduction, it plays instead like some kind of parlor game where I pretend I’m a slut who wants to take you home and you pretend you are a horny young guy wanting his ashes hauled. Especially with a white ash hauler, always the most forbidden of fruits for a black man.

The problems begin from the very start.

Clay, played by a suitably uptight Marques Causey, enters and takes his seat on the subway. He reads his paper. And reads. And reads. And reads. A full six or seven minutes of watching him read and waiting for the train to get going.

It finally gets up to speed once Lula, the over-vamped Sasha Katherine Sigel, arrives. Her arrival is complete with bright red apples she will share with Clay. Get it?

Unfortunately, this production goes from zero to 60 in the blink of an eyelash and never varies its speed. It just keeps on plunging straight ahead, and we thank our lucky stars that there is a track rather than see this thing spin off into a disaster of a wreck.

There are a variety of problems plaguing this production, many of which would not exist if handled by more seasoned actors and a director, Sherrick Robinson, with more experience and a more deft touch.

For some reason, there is almost no rhythm to the countless speeches we hear. Pauses show up in the most unusual places. Pauses are fine, but they must at least be filled with something we can see and relate to. A pause without that is just the empty quiet.

And credulity is strained almost from the beginning as Sigel is so hyper-slutty and Causey plays his character so "I’m just a po’ horny boy massa" that nobody has anywhere to go. And if there is nowhere for the characters to go, it’s a cinch that we, too, are going to be left adrift.

Finally, after the white world has had its fill of playing with the black boy, Causey gets a chance to rage against the machine. But his rage seems almost like a childish tantrum than a grown man reaching for the star of freedom.

And to make matters worse, while Causey is throwing himself around the subway car, shouting at the top of his lungs, Sigel sits as if she’s a mother at a PTA meeting listening to a report on how much the bake sale raised.

This is a play full of emotional turf. The message of 50 years ago still rings true today and heeding the fact that the anger of 50 years ago is the anger of today is a worthy recognition. There is something in this play that can teach lessons to all of us.

But the art of theater is to dig deep, to find the cracks and crevices that make our journey with you worth our time. The problem here is that it seemed like everyone knew all the questions and the answers before the test even started.

"Dutchman" runs through Dec. 20 and information on tickets and showtimes is available here.

Dave Begel Contributing Writer

With a history in Milwaukee stretching back decades, Dave tries to bring a unique perspective to his writing, whether it's sports, politics, theater or any other issue.

He's seen Milwaukee grow, suffer pangs of growth, strive for success and has been involved in many efforts to both shape and re-shape the city. He's a happy man, now that he's quit playing golf, and enjoys music, his children and grandchildren and the myriad of sports in this state. He loves great food and hates bullies and people who think they are smarter than everyone else.

This whole Internet thing continues to baffle him, but he's willing to play the game as long as OnMilwaukee.com keeps lending him a helping hand. He is constantly amazed that just a few dedicated people can provide so much news and information to a hungry public.

Despite some opinions to the contrary, Dave likes most stuff. But he is a skeptic who constantly wonders about the world around him. So many questions, so few answers.