Review: Teen Dreams Are as Empty as the Calories in MILK LIKE SUGAR

Written by Kirsten Greenidge; directed by M. Bevin O'Gara; scenic design, Cristina Todesco; costume design, Junghyun Georgia Lee; lighting design, Wen-Ling Liao; sound design, M. L. Dogg; production stage manager, Kevin Schlagle

Cast in Order of Appearance:

Talisha, Shazi Raja; Annie, Jasmine Carmichael; Margie, Carolina Sanchez; Antwoine, Matthew J. Harris; Malik, Marc Pierre; Myrna, Ramona Lisa Alexander; Keera, Shanae Burch

Performances and Tickets:

Through February 27, Huntington Theatre Company, Roberts Studio Theatre, Calderwood Pavilion, Boston Center for the Arts, 539 Tremont St., Boston; tickets start at $25 and are available online at www.huntingtontheatre.org or by calling the Box Office at 617-266-0800.

There's not much hope for the girls at the center of MILK LIKE SUGAR, Kirsten Greenidge's Obie Award-winning play about teenagers seeking fulfillment through pregnancy. Margie (Carolina Sanchez) thinks of the baby she is planning to have with her boyfriend as another accessory to color coordinate, like her dazzling pink purse and matching smart phone. Talisha (Shazi Raja) sees motherhood as an escape - from the beatings she receives from her impoverished mother even if it means enduring more of the same from the older banger who gives her gifts, at a steep personal cost.

Meanwhile Annie (Jasmine Carmichael) sees the pregnancy pact she has made with her girlfriends as a bonding ritual, a way to create an extended family that will always last. She begins to have doubts, though, when Malik (Marc Pierre), the studious senior Margie has arranged for Annie to hook up with on her 16th birthday, offers romance instead of sex. Later the evangelical Keera (Shanae Burch) adds to Annie's conflict by introducing her to the gospel, inspirational music and hope.

But just when Annie begins to believe there can be more to her life than the multiple shifts her parents work as a cab driver and cleaning lady, "reality" hits in the form of disillusionment and despair. Her final refuge is in the arms of Antwoine (Matthew J. Harris) the gifted but undisciplined tattoo artist who turns thoughts of a tiny ink lady bug into a shimmering, bright red flame.

Such symbolisms abound in Greenidge's ambitious, if somewhat clichéd, script. Smart phones and Air Jordans represent acceptance and success. A telescope becomes the instrument for looking at, and presumably reaching for, the stars. The box of dehydrated milk like sugar that sits next to the Pop Tarts on Annie's pantry shelf is nothing more than empty calories, faux food unable to provide any kind of real nourishment - of the physical or spiritual kind.

From the opening scene in which Margie, Talisha and Annie strut and preen while peppering their dialog with street talk, one senses that these girls are doomed to repeat their families' difficult histories. Impoverished and hemmed in by limited opportunity, they have parents who are emotionally unavailable at best and absent or abusive at worst. Education offers no pathway up and out for them, since scholarship without dollar-ship is fruitless. Yet, each girl in her own unique way still clings to a childish hope for empowerment and salvation. There's an unshakable dose of genuine romanticism and naïveté mixed in with their defeatist expectations.

Yet it is the very presence of those palpable dreams that makes their inability to achieve them that much more heartbreaking. These girls could be so much more than their circumstances if only luck would let them. Wanting the stars is one thing. Developing the tools to reach them is quite another.

While Greenidge's prose is repetitive and formulaic at times, this Huntington cast infuses each word with sincerity and deep emotion. Carmichael's Annie glows with an inner strength that is impossible to extinguish. Raja wears Talisha's terrible wounds like armor emblazoned with war paint. Sanchez grows from a frivolous party girl to a realistic mother as Margie, and Burch makes Keera's surprising transition from joy to shame utterly devastating.

The formidable Ramona Lisa Alexander gives Annie's mother Myrna a quiet fortitude that occasionally ignites a passion that rails against her world weary pragmatism. Pierre infuses his Malik with an intelligence and kindness that belie his willingness to hustle the streets for money to send himself to college. Harris bucks the stereotype of a heavy metal tattoo artist by revealing his gentler aspirations to a responsive and respectful Annie.

Director M. Bevin O'Gara has navigated her cast and design team eloquently through the colorful streets and shadowy alleys of MILK LIKE SUGAR. She has teased out every ounce of hope and despair from Greenidge's thoughtful, if ultimately melancholy, play.

The production's greatest strength is its truthful portrayals. The memory of each of these imperfect characters will linger.

PHOTOS BY T. CHARLES ERICKSON: Carolina Sanchez as Margie, Jasmine Carmichael as Annie, and Shazi Raja as Talisha; Jasmine Carmichael and Shanae Burch as Keera; Shazi Raja and Carolina Sanchez; Ramona Lisa Alexander as Myrna and Jasmine Carmichael