Jay Ellis (Insecure) and Stephanie Nur (Lioness), two rising stars on film and TV, spark with a sizzling onstage chemistry in Charles Randolph-Wright ripped-from-the-headlines romantic drama Duke & Roya. The show, which opened Tuesday at Off Broadway’s Lucille Lortel Theatre, depends a lot on the coyly romantic exchanges between its two stars to make up for some of the infelicities of a timely, heartfelt, but somewhat implausible plot.
Ellis plays Duke, a Drake-like hip-hop star of some renown who fronts a bad-boy image despite a privileged upbringing as the child of two lawyers. His ever-patient mother, Desiree (Noma Dumezweni), a British Ghanaian who works for the World Bank, mostly rolls her eyes at how her son has chosen to use his college degree in English lit to sling superficial rhymes about how “Ya boy’s on fire, fly in my attire.” But when he touches down in Afghanistan in 2017 to give a concert to troops stationed at a U.S. military base, he’s immediately drawn to his local interpreter/guide, Roya (Nur), whose fluency in English is occasionally challenged by idioms like “wicked shit” and “true that” but who matches wits with him in a disarming way fueled more by curiosity than fan worship.
There’s a mutual intrigue (and a surprising shared passion for the works of James Baldwin and the Persian poet Rumi) that blossoms into the suggested possibility of something more. The budding flirtation grows after Duke prolongs his stay to recover from injuries sustained in a bomb explosion that occurs when the two sneak off base for an exploratory adventure. That’s also when mom descends, the picture of bureaucratic practicality, and finds a kindred soul in Roya’s father, Sayeed (Dariush Kahsani), a longtime interpreter for American forces who hopes to finagle a coveted visa to the U.S. for his family. Like Desiree, he also harbors lofty ambitions for his daughter, whom he has cultivated to be like a son (including with an education typically afforded only to boys) and allowed to work beside him on the base as his trusted deputy, in defiance of traditional gender norms.
Randolph-Wright crafts an intriguing story that draws on ideas and issues that are both familiar (the plight of Afghan interpreters for the U.S. military after our withdrawal in 2021) and less so (Roya was able to get an education during the Taliban’s reign by posing as a boy, in a centuries-old practice known as Bacha Posh). Some of the most compelling details are addressed only glancingly, alas, while others are handled in a way that seems more designed to stir up conflict than to illuminate either the characters or their ideals. (Sayeed’s eruption at this daughter in a late scene seems jarringly Western in its execution and orientation, a fact that’s all the more frustrating because the conflict is resolved so quickly afterward.)
Despite a script that can be as jagged as Afghanistan’s Hindu Kush mountains, the cast does a remarkable job of smoothing out individual scenes and allowing us to buy into situations that might collapse on closer inspection. Director Warren Adams’s pacing helps tremendously in that regard, as does Wilson Chin’s versatile set design, with its gorgeous mosaic-tile flooring, and Amina Alexander’s lighting, which comes alive during the multiple scenes of Duke rapping on stage.
It’s in these concert scenes that Ellis exudes a bragodocious swagger–as well as a gift for rapid-fire lyrical word delivery that’s truly astonishing. Get the man a label deal ASAP. You buy him as a hip-hop star, but also as a closeted intellectual who can quote Rumi and whose interest in Roya seems genuine. And Nur matches Ellis’s charisma with a corresponding level of demure flirtation, as if she herself is surprised at her level of boldness she can strike with this American celebrity while still maintaining a sense of modesty and decorum. (This is one romance where the postponement of physical contact seems wholly justified by the circumstances.) There are more than one heartbreaking moments when both seem to lean in for kisses that the other thinks the better of, defusing the tension with a gesture of retreat and a quick change of the subject.
Despite its flaws, Duke & Roya is a compelling and thoughtful romantic drama that showcases some star-worthy performances. ★★★★☆
DUKE & ROYA
Lucille Lortel Theatre, Off Broadway
Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes (with 1 intermission)
Tickets on sale through August 23 for $79 to $239
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