(Los Angeles Times - June 17, 2005) "Sunshine for a Midnight Weary," presented by EMBODI
Entertainment at the Inglewood Playhouse, is a fine opportunity to see a dedicated acting ensemble ply
its craft. Director Angela Matemotja and her fellow performers infuse November Dawn's fiercely poetical
drama with affecting grace and candor.

Largely made up of loosely linked monologues, the play looks at the travails women of color confront in
their daily lives. Their yearning for light and meaning is a blatant connecting theme (a bit ironic, considering
that the gloomy lighting keeps the actresses in near-darkness for much of the time).
The subject matter is freewheeling, to say the least. Among the characters, we meet a lesbian confronting
the raw hatred of the "hetero world," a junkie trapped in the downward spiral of her addiction, and several
abused women whose anger has reached critical mass.

There's rage aplenty to be found in this desultory mix, but there's also humor, pathos and robust sensuality.
Unfortunately, Dawn's writing is occasionally overwrought and hackneyed. However, at its best, it takes
on the raw urgency of a Beat era poet, with the same sweeping, stream-of-consciousness tone.
Besides Matemotja, the consistently high-quality cast includes Tasia Sherel, Brandy Maddox, Tammi
Rashonda, Renee McSwain, Erica Pitts, Shannon Shepherd, Brianna Brown, and Baadja. The play's
emphasis on female bonding is appropriate. Indeed, these performers are so closely bonded in style and
commitment, they often seem to function as one organism.

by Neal Weaver
(LA Weekly - June 9, 2005) Sunshine dominates the title, but it’s the darkness that prevails till almost the
end of November Dawn’s choreoplay, which eloquently celebrates the strength of black women and
anatomizes their miseries and travails. Written in verse and rhythmic prose, it takes a sharp look at
poverty, dead-end jobs, drugs, male violence, and homophobia, judgmental church ladies, black men
obsessed with white women, and AIDS. The Chopin Funeral March provides a grim prelude, followed by the
nine women chanting in the darkness, "Give me some light so I can see!"

Light and darkness provide the central metaphors, in subtle as well as obvious ways: Though light
illuminates, it also reveals unwelcome truths. One sometimes sympathizes with the character who says,
"I get tired of all the sob stories," but at its best, the play generates real power — particularly in the tale
of a mother (director-choreographer Angela Matemotja) who discovers her man has seduced her retarded
daughter while she was out working to support them. Matemotja leads her cast (including Tasia Sherel,
Tammi Rashonda, Brandy Maddox, Renee McSwain, Erica Pitts, Shannon Shepherd, Baadja and the
one Caucasian, Brianna Brown) in a deeply committed, highly charged performance.