‘Carlyle’ plays off red and blue (and black and white) at Goodman

And now a word from the political Right by way of Thomas Bradshaw’s playfully poking-and-prodding world premiere, “Carlyle,” on the stage of the Goodman’s Owen Theatre.

But first a few words of caution. The big questions that hang in the balance here are these: Is Bradshaw being exceedingly cagey and expressing his own “conservative” views to an audience that might be more divided in its philosophy than they even realize? Or is he being entirely facetious, and just trying to test the depth of the generally “liberal” attitudes of a theater audience? Let’s just say we’re in a presidential election year that seems endless, and now is the ideal time for “Carlyle,” a wacky exercise in meta-satire.

I have been no fan at all of Bradshaw’s previous plays — “Mary” (a farcical look at conservative African-Americans and oblivious racist whites, staged at the Goodman in 2011), or “Fulfillment” (a tale of race and sex) — both of which felt wildly condescending and thuddingly obvious. But while “Carlyle,” too, is marked by some of those qualities, this “virtual reality” play also poses blunt questions that are too rarely asked, but are of crucial importance.

Before going any further, a few words about Carlyle Meyers (played with great zest, and precisely the right Candide-like tone by James Earl Jones II), an African-American attorney married to Janice (Tiffany Scott), a white woman. When we first meet him he is a nervous wreck — suffering from stage fright as he is about to go on TV to announce he is running for a Senate seat from Illinois.

Unlike that “other guy” who briefly served in the Senate before heading to the White House, Meyers is an enthusiastic conservative — a haute bourgeois black man whose very proper, even Waspish father (the picture-perfect Tim Edward Rhoze) had to struggle his way to success. Raised in the posh confines of Greenwich, Conn., Carlyle was educated at private schools and graduated from Harvard Law. And like Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas, of whom he is a great admirer, he holds some controversial (if not incontrovertible) views about affirmative action, among many other things. Along the way he also challenges hypocritical and self-defeating notions about how blacks can best get ahead in this country.

The candidate very quickly addresses the question that some (though certainly not all) might ask: How can a black man be a member of the Republican Party? He names others — Colin Powell, Condoleezza Rice and Justice Thomas (with Bradshaw even giving us a side-show about his encounter with Anita Hill). As for Ben Carson, the now-defunct Republican presidential candidate, he is easily dismissed.

Carlyle then flashes back to tell his own story. He grew up totally preppy — draped in a Nantucket rose cardigan and all the rest. His friends were white, and only when his schools began their quest for racial diversity did his own sense of identity become an issue. In what is sure to generate great offense, Bradshaw depicts those blacks who benefitted from affirmative action as the worst stereotypes — a gum-chewing girl (Charlette Speigner) and rapper (Levenix Riddle), who never graduate but do teach Carlyle how to dance.

When Carlyle finally rooms with a more worthy student (deft work also by Riddle), there is a solid discussion about who should be eligible for affirmative action, and Carlyle’s conclusion is that this is a class issue rather than a racial issue, and poor whites should have the same access as poor blacks. In a “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?” scene reminiscent of one in “Mary,” there is talk of the right to bear arms (everybody’s doing it), black-on-black violence, and slavery (with a brief “Which was worse, the Holocaust or slavery?” exchange leaving a sour aftertaste).

Several ringers in the audience rise up to hoot, howl and protest, including a feminist who challenges the Republican position on abortion (perhaps a late addition in the wake of recent Trumpian comments). She might just as easily have complained about the playwright’s invariably cliched view that white women want black men for sex.

The coup in “Carlyle,” is how appealing the guy can be — just open-minded enough to keep discussion going. Adding spice are Patrick Clear (spot-on as a headmaster), Maureen Gallagher (ideal as Janice’s mother), and Jess Berry, Don Tieri and Nate Wheeldon in ensemble roles.

Directed with just the right lightly comic touch by Benjamin Kamine, “Carlyle” has its counterpoint in Lucas Hnath’s surprisingly moving play, “Hillary and Clinton” now at Victory Gardens Theatre. Both are far more engaging than real life politics.