If this brilliant piece hadn't already been staged Off-Broadway, I'd be saying it needed to be transported there posthaste. The script deals powerfully with a full range of top-shelf issues facing African American men. But first the species is defined -- six different ways by six different men, all of them telling us why he is what black women truly want. You've met them all: the muscular sex machine; the hard-hat breadwinner; the gun-toting militant; the buttoned-down careerist; the slickster with the cool threads; and blackest of them all, the true leader summoning blacks back to their heritage. Ah, but all these black men, while bickering among themselves, must confront their common failings. Bossed by white men, unfaithful to black women, all fall short of their potential.
Meloncon creates fascinating juxtapositions. In one hilarious scene, the men swap pointers on seducing black women. Soon afterwards, they're licking their wounds. The deepest are inflicted by women who put them down or, worse, buy into white stereotypes and mother them. The ventilating aimed at women becomes fierce and disquieting.
But before the closing conciliatory scene, Meloncon preaches sharply, taking the wraps off the black man's homophobia. The incantatory "Believe in Us" finale is a powerful moment of unity -- between the competing men and between the sexes. Diary has a sharp message, sugared with comedy and song. Directed by Tommie H. Stewart, performance level was near-miraculous. Were these truly college kids from Montgomery, Alabama? The heartfelt rapprochement soulfully pleaded for by the ensemble was deeply moving. But I'm not sure that was the only reason my tears were flowing so copiously. Because here I was discovering all these beautiful voices, all this wonderful sexy self-assurance, and realizing how unlikely it was that the world would ever share the glory I was hearing and seeing.
