Pamela Nomvete as Faye. Photo - Helen Murray

‘Skeleton Crew’ by Dominique Morisseau (directed by Matthew Xia, at the Donmar Warehouse, London until 24 August) considers the impact of industrial decline on communities and individuals.

Faye: I don’t abide by no rules but necessity. I do what I do till I figure out another thing and do that.

The play is set in 2008, in the breakroom of one of the last small car plants operating in Detroit. There’s a microwave and a refrigerator, a tatty couch and crates of kitchen supplies. The heating has packed up and the bulletin board screams instructions.

‘FRIDGE EMPTIED EVERY FRIDAY’
‘NO GAMBLING ON THE PREMISES. DEZ, THIS MEANS YOU.’
‘YOU SEE YOUR MAMA HERE? NO? THEN CLEAN UP AFTER YOURSELF!’

Between shifts, the workers change shoes at their lockers, prepare themselves some food and coffee, and talk around the table. Dez (Branden Cook), a smart young hustler, charms his colleagues and plans for the future. Shanita (Racheal Ofori), diligent and thoughtful, does everything by the book. She loves her work.

Shanita: I feel like I’m building somethin’ important. Love the way the line needs me. Like if I step away for even a second and don’t ask somebody to mind my post, the whole operation has to stop. My touch…my special care…it matter. I’m building something that you can see come to life at the end. Got a motor in it and it’s gonna take somebody somewhere. Gonna maybe drive some important businessman to work. Gonna get some single mama to her son’s football practice. Gonna take a family on their first trip to Cedar Point. Gonna even maybe be somebody’s first time. Who knows? But I like knowing I had a hand in it.

And then there’s Faye (Pamela Nomvete), the formidable veteran with ‘a lifetime of dirt between her nails.’ She ignores the strictures against on-site smoking and gambling, and dishes out sarcasm and worldly wisdom.

Faye: Ya’ll youngins don’t know nuthin’ ‘bout how to fix up no car. Treat ‘em ‘bout as dumb as you treat women. Put a bunch of pretty jewelry on her – gold rims – trick out her exterior, and on the inside, she ain’t got nothin’ to run on. No care. No substance. Just put all your attention on the shit that don’t matter. That ain’t how to make her purr like you really want.

The autoworkers speculate about the reduced staffing on the lines and the recent spate of plant machinery thefts. They wonder whether the site is at risk of closure.

Dez: Rumors ‘bout shuttin’ down been circulating every year. Then it go away. That’s just how it is. Can’t worry ‘bout it. Cuz if it don’t happen you done worried for nothin’. And if it do happen, you done worried twice.

We learn how the threatened shutdown impacts each of the characters differently. Reggie (Tobi Bamtefa), the studious foreman with neat hair and a white buttoned-down shirt, has bought a house in a good area and settled his kids in a new school. Dez has been saving up to start his own repair shop, and desperately needs his wage and overtime. Faye is well aware that her retirement package will be significantly better if she can just make it to 30 years’ service.

Faye: Told you, don’t be listening to rumors. You inhale every rumor, you clog up your lungs. Die of asphyxiation of other people’s bullshit.

We also come to appreciate that the characters’ concerns are compounded by their own particular personal challenges. Faye has been sleeping overnight in the breakroom. Shanita is pregnant and periodically bursts in in tears. Dez keeps a gun in his locker.

Dez: Need me a good severance deal…if…shit goes down.
Faye: If ‘if’ was a spliff, we’d all be high.

**Racheal Ofori as Shanita.** Photo - Helen Murray

As the play proceeds, all these ingredients simmer and come to the boil. We are presented with a compelling case study in the dignity of labour; the social cohesion created by industrial jobs, and destroyed by wholesale layoffs; and the resourcefulness and grit of working people.

As a young Planner I was taught that one of the fundamental responsibilities of advertising was to keep the factories open; to keep the lines moving; to sustain jobs. It’s worth being reminded of that occasionally.

I was particularly taken with a speech made by Shanita after a tough commute to the factory.

Shanita: This whole city is under construction. That’s what I discovered on my way into work today. Traffic on the 75 was crazy. They done took everything down to one lane. And people don’t know how to merge. Cars backed up for miles cuz people don’t know how to merge. Don’t matter what freeway you take, it be the same selfish behaviour on all of ‘em. Everybody got somewhere to be and don’t wanna let you in. Even when you honk at ‘em. Even when you try to smile pretty and be polite with it. That shit used to work at one point. I could always squeeze into a lane with a smile. But not no more. Nobody wants to merge no more. We just gettin’ squished into smaller lanes while they make these promises to fix the freeways and don’t seem like they ever really get fixed. And at the end of the day, we just hate drivin’ with each other cuz ain’t enough space and assholes don’t wanna let you in. All I can think anymore is if we just merged, shit would flow so much better.

The world is more fragmented, individualistic and isolating than at any time in human history. And yet we are stronger together - in life generally, and in work specifically.

We need to remember how to merge.

'Gotta find me an angel
To fly away with me.
Gotta find me an angel
And set me free.
My heart is without a home,
I don't want to be alone.
I gotta find me an angel
In my life, in my life.
Too long have I loved,
So unattached within.
So much that I know
That I need somebody so.
So I'll just go on
Hoping that I find me someone.
Gotta find me an angel
In my life, in my life.
I know there must be someone
Somewhere for me.
Oh, I've lived too long
Without the love of someone.
And there's no misery
Like the misery
I feel in me.
Gotta find me an angel
In my life.’
Aretha Franklin, ‘Angel’ (C A Franklin / William N Sanders)

No. 479