Review: A humorous and humanizing ‘Jaja’s African Hair Braiding’ at Mark Taper Forum
- Mayank Keshaviah
- Oct 11
- 4 min read
The power of a play with a single setting is the sense of urgency and dramatic tension it gives the action on stage, as if the characters are trapped in one location and can’t escape. As a result, the “plot” ends up being not so much about what happens as about illuminating the relationships among characters, and how that speaks to the human condition. Such plays can also provide a window into a world that theatregoers don’t usually experience in their daily lives, and one not often showcased onstage.
Jocelyn Bioh’s Tony-nominated “Jaja’s African Hair Braiding” accomplishes all of the above and more by taking us into an immigrant-run hair salon in New York City on a hot July day in 2019. The urban storefront, complete with its window-mounted A/C unit, graffiti on the walls across the alley, and its chain-operated steel security grate (courtesy of scenic designer David Zinn) give us that Harlem vibe from the get-go. Inside, the checkerboard tile floor may be the only thing that isn’t brightly colored: from vivid pink walls, to signage straight out of a Jet Magazine ad, to the “Nollywood” movies playing on the wall-mounted LCD screens.
In a nod to another single-setting play, Bioh’s work might alternatively have been titled “Waiting for Jaja,” as the title character is frequently talked about and referenced but doesn’t show up until three-fourths of the way into the play. Jaja (a larger-than-life Victoire Charles) also holds the same sway over the other characters as Godot does in Samuel Beckett’s piece.
Jaja’s daughter Marie (a dynamic Jordan Rice), however, features prominently from the start, holding down the fort at her mother’s business while her mom is away, preparing for her green-card court wedding that day. Marie opens up the shop with Miriam (a wonderfully nuanced Bisserat Tseggai), one of the younger braiders in the shop who is kind and humble; she has a layered backstory and feisty spirit that we later learn about as she engages in the arduous task of giving walk-in customer Jennifer (a warm, friendly Mia Ellis) long microbraids.
The two veterans of the salon are Bea (a commanding Claudia Logan) and Aminata (a delightfully mischievous Tiffany Renee Johnson), who feel like sisters in the way they argue, tease, dance and knowingly push each other’s buttons. Verbally jousting with them and holding her own is Ndidi (a feisty, charismatic Abigail C. Onwunali), the young upstart whose skills are undeniable, threatening the client bases of both Bea and Aminata.
In many ways, Bioh’s play presents an August Wilsonian slice of Black life in a very specific setting, with all the comings and goings of the folks who inhabit that world: the sock-selling street hustler, the bougie prep-school girl in yacht wear, the Beyoncé stan and the overworked nurse. In this strongly African-American neighborhood, Bioh also beautifully weaves in many strands of the African diaspora, with characters hailing from Senegal, Ghana, Sierra Leone and Nigeria.
The cast is fantastic across the board, with even the supporting players (Melanie Brezill, Leovina Charles and Michael Oloyede) showcasing tremendous range by playing at least three different characters each. Brezill brings a warmth to all of her roles, while Charles’s fierce energy imbues hers. Oloyede is tasked with playing all the male characters in the piece, and even the less-than-savory ones he infuses with humanity. And director Whitney White deftly keep the business of the salon moving, juggling the multiple character moments and movements with aplomb.
Music and sound designer Justin Ellington’s catchy Afrobeats and NYC soundscape provide the perfect aural backdrop for the piece. Nikiya Mathis’s wig and hair designs, to paraphrase a New York Times article, feel like a character in themselves. The way the actors’ hairstyles are transformed during the show—bit by bit, to demonstrated the stages of the braiding process—is a marvel.
Toward the end of the piece, a major event shifts the tone, echoed by the Afrobeats soundtrack giving way to melancholy jazz. In a bookend to Marie opening up the shop’s metal grate at the top of the show, the group of women help her lock up. Without revealing the ending, the final moments steel the resolve of these brave immigrants and lead to a solidarity that brings quibbling personalities together in sisterhood.
As the lights went down during the opening night performance, the only thing I was left wanting was more story, as I wasn’t yet ready to let go of these characters. I’d love to see Bioh pen a companion piece to “Jaja,” so we might see how these colorful, charismatic and resilient women would respond to the events of 2025. Since America is saddled with a reprise of 2019 in terms of the occupant of the White House, I’d love the counterpoint of a sequel to this intimate, timely and life-affirming play.
“Jaja’s African Hair Braiding” continues through Nov. 9 at Center Theatre Group’s Mark Taper Forum (at the Music Center), 135 N. Grand Ave., Los Angeles., with shows Tuesdays through Thursdays at 7:30 p.m., Fridays at 8 p.m., Saturdays at 2 p.m. and 8 p.m., and Sundays at 1 p.m. and 7 p.m. For tickets and information, visit CenterTheatreGroup.org or call the box office at 213-628-2772. Run time 90 minutes with no intermission.
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