The Slay’s The Thing!
Review of Fat Ham at Seattle Repertory Theatre
Written by Hân Nguyen during an Arts Criticism workshop at Evergreen High School
![BP Rep Fat Ham Press 2](https://cdn.craft.cloud/07cfd147-dcc8-4b83-aa98-6397b0ca944b/assets/images/general/BP_RepFatHam_Press-2.jpg?width=800&fit=scale-down&s=_DMntOvwKg0TkM_Affs2kfqnk1CZodn6LTcme4AOsrM)
Accepting a legacy is never as simple as it sounds, whether it be the weight of a crown or a sizzling hot grill. It’s considered an honor to carry what your forefathers have passed down—or at least it should be. Seattle Rep presents a modern adaptation of Shakespeare’s Hamlet called Fat Ham, written by James Ijames. It follows the story of Juicy, an aspiring HR manager, as he battles expectations creeping in from every corner and staying true to himself as a queer and Black man in the rural South. Having so much piled on his plate, Juicy’s various troubles and even that of those around him echo the many realities of swaying in contradiction. It’s hard to know where to start. Through its characters’ struggles, Fat Ham beautifully portrays the struggle of being authentic towards yourself in an environment that doesn’t nurture it.
The play opens by showing off preparations to celebrate Tedra’s (Juicy’s mom) remarriage to Juicy’s uncle, Rev. Juicy is then visited by an anguished spirit in need of revenge: his own father. With the pressure on and a blade thrust into his hands, Juicy’s subjected to countless reminders of his upbringing and is faced with an ultimatum he’s not sure he can carry out, as it goes against his core beliefs. Torn between continuing a toxic cycle and challenging expectations for the men in his family, Juicy sets himself down a path of trial and error.
Juicy’s active fight against the expectations pushed on him shows an example of generational struggles. His father, Pap, is introduced by an eerie cloud of smoke and a power outage that swallows the room in darkness. Spectators watch in anticipation as a ghostly sheet sweeps across the stage accompanied by Juicy’s panicked flailing and cold, dim lighting. Pap first appearing as a blank silhouette represents the literal and figurative aspect of Juicy being haunted. Juicy’s scream was also sudden, startling the audience and offering a quick laugh. It was a well-done scene, both for being funny and heavy underneath the suspense. Sometimes a haunting isn’t a monster, but rather, a familiar face.
Additionally, the play does a wonderful job of showcasing Larry and Opal’s underlying struggles of hiding themselves. We’re first introduced to Larry as he shows off his military status, clad in a full uniform and speaking formally to Juicy’s family. His voice is booming but stiff, overly practiced. He speaks broadly about his time serving and refrains from giving details. We also have Opal who appears at the barbeque wearing a dress, which Juicy points out isn’t like her. She hates wearing dresses and reasons that she’s doing it for her mom, Rabby. Both siblings spend the duration of the play clawing against the confines of their roles in society. The build-up reaches a breaking point and it comes hot. Explosive revelations ensue and we see a complete transformation from Rabby’s family as they grow into themselves. The characterization in Fat Ham is powerful, especially when you analyze the subtle details.
Finally, we have Tedra’s story. The audience is quick to judge Juicy’s mom based on the fact that she married her husband’s brother soon after his passing. Her decision could even be seen as evil given the fact that Rev was also her husband’s killer. Tedra challenges these opinions and breaks the fourth wall to explain herself, giving viewers a more humanizing reason for her actions: loneliness. She expresses her fear of being alone and never meeting someone new after Pap. Tedra’s highlighted by a spotlight on the stage as she opens up to Juicy about how isolated towns are in the South, with few opportunities to meet new faces. She doesn’t have ambitions to leave her roots behind like Juicy does, which is why she settled with Rev. To Tedra, being secure is to have someone at her side. Her vulnerability emphasized by the soft lighting and quiet atmosphere brought the scene to life, giving it an intimate aura that drew on the audience’s empathy.
All in all, Fat Ham’s fine composition of stage elements and acting make it impactful. Drawing on real experiences of intersectionality like being Black in the South, queer, and a woman makes it relevant and relatable in modern society. Fat Ham gives these experiences a place to be heard and seen; showing Juicy’s generational trauma and addressing his active choice to break the cycle displays a reality for today’s people. The play also called attention to religion and its influences by including the gender roles Rabby pushed on her two kids and the judgment Tedra faced as a remarried woman. To fit the comedy genre, Fat Ham was written to be funny. Outrageous lines and outbursts make it an entertaining spectacle alone, but the messages being conveyed touch on deeper subjects that contrast their presentation. In spite of their harsh environment, these characters pulled through to be their true selves. Seattle Rep puts on a beautiful show for their version of the ending of Fat Ham, putting on an incredible performance that would definitely speak to queer youth and those that believe in defying gender roles. To slay is to be true to yourself and in Fat Ham, the slay’s the thing.
Lead Photo Credit: Taj E.M. Burroughs and Reginald André Jackson in Fat Ham (2024) at Seattle Rep. Photo by Bronwen Houck.
The TeenTix Press Corps promotes critical thinking, communication, and information literacy through criticism and journalism practice for teens. For more information about the Press Corps program see HERE.
This review was written as part of an Arts Criticism workshop at Evergreen High School in Emily Acquino’s Language Arts classes, taught by Press Corps teaching artist Beth Pollack.