In case anyone missed it, the election of a black President did not abate racism in the country. It made those who were racist double down on their particular brand of hate. And through the power of social media, especially Facebook, “unfriendings” happen every day over the language used to describe President Obama in posts and comments.

Indeed, one wonders if Facebook would have made an appearance in Clybourne Park, now playing at The Hillberry Theatre in Detroit through April 2, had playwright Bruce Norris penned it when Facebook was more of a thing.

The first act of the play is set in a residential Chicago neighborhood, Clybourne Park, a community of homes built in the post-World-War Two booming economy. It’s 1959, and moving day for Russ (Michael Manoccio) and Bev (Mary Sansone). They are packing up their house and moving to another community. There is a presence in the house that has come between them in their marriage, and between them and their neighbors–a son (Cody Robinson), we learn, who came home from the Korean war and committed suicide in the house. Into this breach of Russ’s depression and Bev’s caffeinated melancholy is a black domestic, Francine (Antonia LaChè), who is helping them pack, Francine’s husband, Albert Brandon A. Wright), the local minister (Nick Stockwell), and a neighbor, Karl (James Kern), who strongly objects in the most obnoxious terms possible to Russ and Peg selling their house to a black family. Karl’s pregnant and deaf wife Betsy (Wesley Cady) rounds out the ensemble.

The play is largely about how the calendar changes, but people not so much. The same actors who play the parts in the first act, come back in the second act to play some of the descendants of the characters in the first act. The time in Act-Two is the 2000s. George W. Bush is President and LaChè is now playing Lena, a grand niece of Francine, and her husband, played again by Wright, is now Kevin. They are urbane professionals, and an extension of the black community that moved into Clybourne Park in the 1960s and sparked white-flight to the suburbs. Now, Clybourne Park is being rediscovered by young white families, and one, Steve and Lindsey (played by Kern and Cady), are wanting to raise the roof on the house by 15 feet–against the dictates of the community association, represented by Lena, who wants the historic architecture of the neighborhood preserved. Kathy, a lawyer on the scene, is played by Sansone, and is actually the daughter of Karl and Betsy from the first act.

Directed by Tim Rhoze, there are notable differences from other productions I have seen. Russ, for example, is combative and depressed in the Act 1, but not nearly so set in morose concrete as I have seen in other productions. Intermission was a bit odd, and the audience didn’t quite know what to make of it. After the first act players leave the stage, an interlude begins that depicts the passage of time. Music and news readings from 1960 through to the 2000s take place over the speakers in the theatre, while hoodie-clad miscreants break into the house and begin stripping away the valuable woodwork. The home that Steve and Lindsey have bought is meant to reflect years of neglect, and they are getting a bargain house they will have to restore…to its former white glory? It is a clever and effective transition piece, but the audience didn’t seem to know whether they were supposed to stay in their seats to watch, or hit the lobby for a bathroom break and a Snickers bar. There was a mix of both responses, along with smartphone checking while the looting and audio track was on. It felt odd. Maybe there needs to be some instruction to the audience in the program? Or via a sign at the entry doors?

Norris wrote the story as a spinoff of Lorraine Hansberry’s “A Raisin in the Sun,” which premiered in 1959. And The Theatre and Dance Dept. at Wayne State University had a run of Raisin prior to this production.

LaChè handles both her roles with sharp edges and just the right amount of connective tissue as the subordinate but dignified domestic, and later as a forceful black woman of the 2000s standing up for what she feels she and her community have coming in terms of respect. Manocchio makes Russ very watchable in the first act, though his Russ comes off as more angry than depressed, and his timing as an actor is exceptional. Wright makes his journey from the dignified, ever-helpful Albert of 1959, to Kevin who is very much more part of the “white world” of the 2000s with nice craft. Kern has two obnoxious jerks to play, and does well with them both. He’s the fulcrum of proving out just how little a knife has to scrape to hit racism and bigotry in people no matter the decade.

Scenic designer Sarah Pearline does a fine job capturing the inside of a Craftsman Home that was part of the post-war building boom, and in making the set change part of the flow of the play.

One of the elements of the script that I like is that some of the characters don’t know or feel they are racist, and that begets some thinking about what racism really is. It’s obvious in the characters of Karl and Steve, but it takes on more nuance watching Bev’s and Lindsey’s limp protests. Sometimes, maybe the definition is–I know when I see it and hear it.

After a two-term Obama presidency, and no black candidates from either major party running this time around, race is just as much a part of an election year conversation as it was eight and four years ago. Why? Because having a black President has made us ponder more than ever just how racist the society remains. Clybourne Park is going for the same thing and succeeds in making us think.

Bottom Line: Clyburne Park an incredibly well-timed and provocative play.

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