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The family behind the Pulitzer Prize-winning play "August: Osage County."
When Tulsa-born playwright Tracy Letts’ Pulitzer Prize-winning “August: Osage County” debuted on Broadway just over two years ago, his father, Dennis Letts, played the part of the family patriarch. Less than three months later, Dennis passed away.
It’s no big news to Tulsans that Tracy Letts is also the son of popular novelist Billie Letts. Years ago, when I worked in bookselling, I had many opportunities for events with Billie but also several wonderful conversations with Dennis when he would come in the store looking for a new book. Although he left the world as an actor, much of his life was spent teaching English at Southeastern Oklahoma State University. So there were few books he hadn't read. We especially liked talking about Joseph Heller. I miss those conversations.
After his death, a memorial service was held at a funeral home in Wagoner. I made the short drive and didn’t know what to expect. The place was packed, standing room only. I made a few courteous nods and gestures to familiar faces and then waited to see what came next.
The bulk of the service was made up of different family members and friends getting up to tell anecdotal stories about Dennis. Some funny, some touching, none that was out of the ordinary for something like this. But then, over an hour into the service, Tracy Letts got up and began the closing remarks. And to this day, nearly two years later, I can’t shake it from my mind.
The eulogy he delivered was unlike any I’d heard before, and I doubt I will again. There was crying, yelling, nearly operatic moments of pain. Unlike the usual lip service that one might expect, Tracy laid out faults, mistakes, regrets and other dark pieces to the puzzle that made up his father. And while it was uncomfortable at times, in the end I felt I had just heard about the life of a real person, not the polished version presented at most funerals. After nearly 45 minutes of raw emotional confession, Tracy looked to the crowd and said, “All right, let’s go get some fried chicken.” What an ending.
At that time, I hadn’t seen “August: Osage County.” But a few weeks later, or perhaps a couple of months, I read the play in book form. Unlike a lot of plays, which never really come to life on the page, this one pulled me in like some great southern Gothic novel. The dysfunction, the language, the way Oklahoma is captured so perfectly — it was fantastic, a true heir to the work of Tennessee Williams and Eugene O'Neill.
But about halfway through the play, I realized something. The story was not a true work of fiction. The family members I had seen and met at the memorial service, the emotional levels reached on that day, they were all components that led to the creation of this work.
The play is dark; there is no getting around it. And there was a certain kind of darkness at the service. And while I wouldn’t say that the Letts family is the spitting image of the Weston family depicted in the play, that darkness is eerily similar.
To the Broadway crowd, rural Oklahoma might as well be Mars. But on Jan. 26, the Weston family comes home for a weeklong run at the Tulsa Performing Arts Center.
Over the last couple of years, we’ve had many great concerts and shows come through downtown Tulsa. And I expect that number to rise as we move into the future. Some are essential (Bruce Springsteen), while others are more in the “when there’s nothing else to do” category. This play is certainly the former. Don’t miss it.
Photo courtesy of Robert J. Saferstein.
