The Robey Theatre Company: Take Your Seat in the Jury Box: What Had Happened Was Invites You to Decide for Yourself

By AS Cross | October 27, 2026

Call it a game, the system, or the matrix. Whatever its name, the rules have largely been written by those who hold power. Those who play by them may share in the benefits, but the rule makers often benefit most.

When the distance between those who make the rules and those who must live by them grows too great, when injustice becomes impossible to ignore, we face a choice: accept the system as it is or challenge it in pursuit of something better.

Confrontation can take many forms. One path abandons ethics and integrity in favor of winning at any cost. Its victories may be immediate, but they seldom endure. Another follows what John Lewis famously called “good trouble”—the difficult, persistent work of pursuing justice through courage, integrity, and nonviolence. It is the nobler path, though its victories often come slowly and at considerable personal cost.

What, then, does one do when principle collides with power? What is one willing to risk in pursuit of justice? And who ultimately decides whether those choices were right or wrong?

These are the questions at the heart of What Had Happened Was, written by Reginald Edmund and directed by Ben Guillory.

The play follows Marcellus Turner, a politician whose commitment to his community defines his life and fuels his passion. Through his experiences, audiences confront the tensions between public service, personal conviction, political power, and the consequences of challenging the status quo.

Kareen introduces the dilemma. Jamal presses the questions. Marcellus lives with the consequences of his answers. Ultimately, the play leaves the audience to reach its own conclusions.

Although a work of fiction, the story bears a recognizable resemblance to the experience of a powerful local public figure. Yet its significance extends well beyond any individual. Through the lives of its characters, the play explores commitment, ambition, love, loyalty, sacrifice, and the difficult choices that accompany the pursuit of justice.

In doing so, it speaks to the global Black experience and advances the vital artistic and humanistic mission of the Robey Theatre Company, founded by Ben Guillory and Danny Glover.

The subject matter is undeniably weighty, particularly in today’s political climate. Yet Edmund’s writing is infused with humor, and laughter arrives often enough to provide welcome relief without diminishing the seriousness of the story.

An original theme song by Cydney Wayne Davis opens and closes the production, returning throughout to reinforce its emotional themes. AI-generated imagery complements the spare, courtroom-like set, evoking familiar places and giving the audience a visual connection to the world unfolding onstage.

The production’s minimalist staging places particular responsibility on its ensemble. The actors must create the relationships, tensions, and emotional landscape that elaborate scenery might otherwise help establish.

At this early point in the production’s run, a few performers experienced tentative moments. These were understandable and likely went unnoticed by much of the audience. Indeed, there was something beautifully human about watching the cast settle into its rhythm, build confidence, and draw energy from one another. As the evening progressed, the ensemble’s chemistry became increasingly compelling.

Julio Hansen delivers a solid, grounded performance as Marcellus Turner, the production’s central figure. Steady and assured, he anchors the actors around him without overwhelming them. His restraint allows the other characters room to flourish.

Hansen’s strategic use of song adds an especially moving dimension to his portrayal. Though the production is not a musical, his brief vocal interludes, particularly those shared with his wife, reveal an emotional vulnerability that words alone might not convey. In one memorable gospel passage, he transports the audience from the theater to the familiar spirit and celebration of a Southern Black church service.

Enisha Brewster is particularly effective as Councilwoman Kareen, a character essential to the play’s dramatic and moral tension. Her opening monologue establishes the tone, while her exchanges with Marcellus give voice to the questions that drive the story. Fiercely poised and unwavering, she commands attention from her first appearance to her last.

James T. Lawson II brings an equally commanding presence to Riley, Marcellus’s cousin. His timing is impeccable, his delivery confident, and his energy infectious. Through subtle expressions and familiar mannerisms, Lawson makes Riley’s place in Marcellus’s life entirely believable. Whether commanding the action or observing from its edges, he remains a formidable presence, sharpening every scene he enters.

Ashlee Olivia is equally convincing as AV, Marcellus’s wife. She inhabits the role with such confidence and naturalness that the boundary between performer and character seems to disappear. She is an ideal stage partner for Hansen, matching his musical expression with a rich voice of her own and deepening the emotional resonance of their shared moments.

Olivia also introduces a welcome lightness that relieves the production’s intensity without interrupting its dramatic momentum. Even when AV stands at the margins of the action, her presence is felt. When she and Marcellus share the stage, the emotional energy shifts, both between the characters and throughout the audience.

Tenesha Viverette demonstrates remarkable versatility in two roles: Jen, Marcellus’s campaign manager and assistant, and Angel, a homeowner who discovers her voice. Her portrayals are sufficiently distinct and fully realized that audiences may momentarily forget the same actress plays both characters.

Rounding out the ensemble are Joshua Bruce as Jamal, whose interviews help frame the narrative; Darrell Philip as Caleb, a prominent real estate developer; and Nicole Gabriella Scipione as the university president. Together, they help bring the political and personal dimensions of Marcellus’s world into focus.

What makes What Had Happened Was especially compelling is its refusal to reduce complicated questions to easy answers.

At a time when public controversies are often distilled into headlines, accusations, and competing declarations of guilt or innocence, the play asks audiences to consider the human circumstances behind the story. It invites reflection on motivation, integrity, institutional power, and the sometimes painful consequences of decisions made in the name of public service.

Theater offers something that statistics, legal arguments, and news accounts cannot always provide: an opportunity to experience the emotional and moral complexity of another person’s circumstances. The most consequential works of art do more than entertain. They challenge assumptions, provoke reflection, and sometimes leave audiences questioning conclusions they once considered settled.

That is why What Had Happened Was is more than a must-see theatrical production. It is an experience that stays with you.

It offers the laughter, music, and memorable performances audiences hope to find in an evening at the theater. But it also offers something more enduring: an invitation to examine our own responsibility for the communities and institutions we inhabit.

Advocates for justice, faith leaders, public officials, aspiring candidates, and theatergoers seeking an engaging evening will find much to appreciate. Yet the production’s greatest achievement may be its capacity to bring these audiences into a shared conversation about questions on which they need not agree.

What constitutes justice? How do we distinguish principled public service from the misuse of power? Who determines the boundaries of acceptable political conduct? And what happens when those boundaries themselves become subjects of legitimate disagreement?

These questions extend far beyond the stage.

The next time a headline announces another political scandal or corruption case, audiences who have experienced What Had Happened Was may find themselves considering not only what happened, but also the circumstances, institutions, and competing interests that shaped the story.

They may even ask a different set of questions:

Who wrote the rules? Who benefits from them? And who pays the price for trying to change them?

The play does not render a verdict.

It invites us to take our seats in the jury box, examine our assumptions, and decide for ourselves.

AS Cross is a local freelance writer who works at the intersection of gender, race, faith and culture.