Alonzo D. LaMont Jr. walks a lot of lines in his play Zulu Fits, the final production of the 2011 Baltimore Playwrights Festival. He’s edgy without being offensive; philosophical but not dry; experimental but accessible. And his powerful work touches on so many themes that it should be erratic, but it’s somehow cohesive. Simple ideas like the difficulty of raising kids in the age of Facebook and Twitter sort themselves out under a veil of history, mysticism, and the power of the mind, all enveloped by an examination of race and radical activism. It’s a whirlwind that’s held together by tight writing and a talented, well-selected cast.

Jersey Jack Black (Marc Stevens) has been in prison for 20 years for shooting a cop, a crime he claims he didn’t commit. (Baltimore viewers will recognize a parallel in convicted murderer Marshall “Eddie” Conway.) He’s become a celebrity prisoner, and a symbol for black power, with hordes of followers petitioning for his release. Two of the followers are sisters Giselle (Lauren Blackwell) and NeeCee (Yakima Rich), teenagers who’ve started a blog dedicated to securing Jersey’s release. The blog draws fans, and the fans create enough excitement that the girls convince themselves they’re the ones who will finally set Jersey free.

Meanwhile, they’ve moved into a new house with their mom (whom we never meet) and dad (Jerome Banks-Bey). The house is believed to be the former home of Patty Cannon, a real-life historical figure who captured freedmen and sold them back into slavery using other blacks as decoys. Giselle is fixated on the idea of living in such a house; later, Cannon’s tactics become a clever metaphor for societal pressures that can con innocents from the path of the straight and narrow.

The set of Zulu Fits consists of Load of Fun’s black-box stage and a few props—chairs, Styrofoam coffee cups. But behind the stage hangs a plain white sheet onto which videos are projected. Jersey makes videos from prison, which other characters watch on their cell phones; what they watch, we see on the sheet. The clips, set in Baltimore, lend the play a feeling of reality. One includes a series of workout videos Jersey films in prison, providing a moment of subtle humor. But the videos also expose his dark side: Jersey has mysterious psychological attacks, the titular “Zulu fits,” about which he’s written a manifesto. In one inspired take, a shaky video camera approaches a woman walking down the Avenue in Hampden. A voice behind the camera asks her opinion of Jersey’s mental status. She’s a doctor, an expert on fits, and testifies that Jersey’s a threat to himself and others and should not be released.

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