Is he, or isn't he? For more than 50 years, this has been a major question at the core of Tennessee Williams' Cat on a Hot Tin Roof: Is athlete-gone-to-seed Brick Pollitt being honest when he says that his close relationship with his college football buddy Skipper was platonic, or is this just another example of the “mendacity” he deplores in other people?

Terrence Howard as Brick (photo by Joan Marcus)

Terrence Howard's performance as Brick in the current Broadway revival of Cat is sure to be talked about for years to come and is guaranteed to earn him a Tony Award nomination. In a recent interview with the L.A. Times, Howard said: “I chose this part to say those lines — 'Why can't exceptional friendship, real, real deep friendship between two men, be respected as something clean and decent? I think a man should be free to express affection for another man, to tell another man he looks beautiful. I've felt very intense, real closeness to a man before with no sexual overtones to it. But we live in a society with such hypocrisy and mendacity that you can't put your arm around your best friend without someone accusing you of being homosexual.'”

The larger point of this statement is certainly valid, but there seems to be some veiled homophobia at work here in terms of both the character and actor: Brick's line hints that there's something inherently unclean and indecent about homosexuality, while Howard's use of the word “accusing” implies that it's criminal and/or immoral to be homosexual. In a previous interview, Howard stated that he considered it a “sin” for anyone to engage in gay sex – though he was quick to point out that everyone, including himself, is a sinner in one way or another.

Such ambivalence indicates that the man is less than fully enlightened on this subject. But the dramatic tension generated by his ambivalence may be partly to thank for the fact that Howard's Brick Pollitt is one of the most complex, fully-realized, achingly human portrayals to be seen on the Broadway stage in recent memory.

Because this Cat has an all-black cast that also features Anika Noni Rose as Brick's frustrated wife Maggie, James Earl Jones as that magnificent monster Big Daddy, and Phylicia Rashad as the long-suffering Big Mama, it begs another question: Is Williams' tale of dirty politics among a filthy rich white family living on a Mississippi Delta plantation estate in the mid 1950s universal enough to withstand color-blind treatment? A full answer to that question would be long and complicated, but this production is strong enough that the short answer is a resounding “yes!”

Make no mistake: Having these roles acted by African Americans is nonsensical in terms of historical verisimilitude, no matter how much the time period of the play's action has been fudged by director Debbie Allen. This production tests the limits of the “willing suspension of disbelief” that is always required of audiences, to one degree or another. But the willingness to suspend disbelief can bring great rewards. This is the most gripping Cat on a Hot Tin Roof I've ever seen in more than 30 years of theatergoing – far superior to the traditionally cast 2003 Broadway revival, which had Ashley Judd and Jason Patric in the leads.

The black Cat's excellence is due in large part to the remarkably skillful, deeply moving performance of Howard, a well-respected movie actor but a rank neophyte in terms of stage experience. Observing his physically and emotionally injured Brick as he hobbles around on a crutch, downing tumbler after tumbler of booze in pursuit of the alcohol-induced “click” in his head that will signal his thorough inebriation, you'd never in a million years guess that Howard has no professional theater credits whatsoever.

Whereas many actors who tackle Brick fall into the two-note trap of playing him as taciturn and angry throughout this lengthy work's three acts, Howard is smart enough to have found humor in the role, often smiling and even laughing over the absurdity of the goings-on at the Pollitt estate. But during his epic Act II confrontation scene with Big Daddy, he more than holds his own in the heady company of James Earl Jones, rising to the heights of dramatic greatness as he rails against the small-mindedness of human beings and offers a heartfelt defense of his relationship with the deceased Skipper.

Howard, James Earl Jones as Big Daddy (photo by Joan Marcus)