John David Washington takes the character of Boy Willie from stage to screen in the film adaptation of The Piano Lesson.
For actor John David Washington, making the pilgrimage to Pittsburgh’s Hill District was one of the more poignant stops on his journey as The Piano Lesson character Boy Willie Charles. After making his Broadway debut with the role in the 2022 Tony Award-nominated production and reprising it for the new film adaptation from director Malcolm Washington, John David Washington finally found himself on the home turf of playwright August Wilson (Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom, Fences) for a special screening.
This visit was one of many stops of a tour that also spans cities across Europe, yet the actor got the chance to visit the home where Wilson grew up and the library a few blocks up where a few “OG’s” play chess religiously. “Everybody from the Hill District to me, are Wilsonians,” John David says. “This is just who they are, as far as the experience, the neighborhood. They know they’ve got one of the greatest writers of all time.”
The Piano Lesson takes place in the Hill District, the heartbeat of Wilson’s American Century Cycle, a series of ten plays (with one exception set in Chicago) that shape a larger story around Black life across various decades of the twentieth century. This Pittsburgh neighborhood dictated every line, every character in his plays. It was a hub for jazz and culture during the 40s and 50s — a must-visit for traveling Black musicians — and Wilson wrote from lived experience.
At the heart of the play is an heirloom piano, carved with images of the Charles family’s enslaved ancestors, which now lives in the home shared by Boy Willie’s sister, Berniece, played by Danielle Deadwyler, and their uncle Doaker (Samuel L. Jackson). The instrument becomes a point of contention in their opposing visions of legacy. It was originally commissioned by a man named Robert Sutter, who enslaved the Charles family’s ancestors, as a gift for his wife, and was later stolen by Boy Willie’s father, who was killed for the act.
Boy Willie now wants to sell the piano to buy land from James Sutter, Robert’s grandson, hoping to carve out his own future, but Berniece believes in preserving it as a symbol of their family’s past. Once the ghost of James Sutter makes his presence known — after his mysterious and untimely death — the Charles siblings are forced to take action to resolve their dispute.
All of Wilson’s plays explore Black American life, but this particular work poses a question that feels timeless: How do we define legacy, especially when its meaning shifts from generation to generation?
An edited version of the conversation follows.
John David Washington
Darian S. Harvin: What creative outlets really shaped your approach to this role? Was it music, theater, or a place? What did you tap into?
John David Washington: I tapped into a lot of Newton, North Carolina. [Washington’s mother, actor and pianist Pauletta Washington, is from Newton.] I remember visiting my grandparents’ grave site and my uncle’s grave sites a couple of weeks before rehearsals started. I told them my life was going to be different after this. “Whatever happens, I hope I make you proud. I hope you give me everything I need to tell this story right, because I’m also telling your story through my experience with you.” I was actually saying this out loud to them. In the film, Boy Willie touches dirt, grabs the dirt — I was doing that in North Carolina, in my uncle’s backyard.
As you’re saying this, it’s reminding me I felt that same sense watching the movie; of these family connections, how we interact with relatives who’ve passed and with those who are still here, especially within Black families. The things we do together and the ways we honor each other — that comes through in the film.
JDW: Hearing that those themes are coming across, especially the familial aspect, makes it feel personal and universal. And the way we executed the visuals with Malcolm [Washington]’s direction — that was a huge achievement for me.
I told the Pittsburgh audience that we’re bringing the Hill District to the U.K. I’m heading to Paris to talk about the film in a couple of days. We’re bringing the Hill District to Europe, to the world, to anyone who sees it on Netflix, and that’s ultimately what August wanted.
Actors often speak about the natural transformation that occurs while immersing yourself into your practice. What did you observe about yourself as you began to deepen your own practice?
JDW: There are different touchstone moments. Not necessarily in order, but getting a laugh onstage — I don’t think I’ve ever felt that kind of euphoric buzz. Thousands of people in an audience laughing at something you did, that one-to-one connection with the performer onstage, it’s incredible. When I’m on set and connecting with people, like seeing Corey Hawkins [Avery Brown in the film version of The Piano Lesson] just speaking in tongues in a scene that wasn’t even scripted that way. The spirit just comes through him and spreads across the whole set. Or watching Danielle go to a whole other place. Those are the moments you live for as an actor. They’re not necessarily why you do it, but they’re the moments that get you so charged up.
I want to dive into some questions about the film. The ghost of Sutter and what he represented — this question of whether the ghost and that energy are tied to the piano itself. It made me wonder when this spirit started to disrupt things. Did that energy start right after Sutter passed, or was it something triggered by Boy Willie’s presence?
JDW: The Sutter family, and Sutter himself, represent the root of Boy Willie’s trauma and loss. His father was lost to the Sutter family, and the Charles family has suffered under their control for generations, even being forced to craft that piano. So Sutter is like this stronghold over Boy Willie’s identity. His ghost symbolizes Boy Willie’s own internal struggle with faith, God, spirituality, and all he was taught. There’s a spiritual warfare happening, with Sutter’s ghost as a catalyst or representation of the battle Boy Willie has to confront in the film.
It’s deeper than just Sutter. Boy Willie is also navigating this complex relationship with the Sutter family’s land, especially with a family member willing to sell it to him — or at least that’s what we’re told. And with Boy Willie, it’s not just about honoring ancestry; it’s also about forgiveness. After the fight, it’s Berniece’s forgiveness that really sets him free. That’s what ultimately releases him, more than just connecting to their shared history.
John David Washington
I told myself, if I fail at this, I’m going to stop acting. It was truly life and death for me.
John David Washington
John David Washington
There’s humility in allowing one’s self to be transformed. When you’re able to let down your guard — and even let go of the thing you were fighting so hard for — that’s powerful. It’s not about giving in out of fear, but, like you said, realizing that how he wanted to carry on his family’s legacy had to align with what was important to the people he loved.
JDW: I think the idea — his American right to buy land and build generational wealth — was the driving force. He’s thinking about his father and all of that. But what’s more immediate, the older, deeper scars and traumas, are the losses he’s carried since losing his father. That loss has shaped him ever since that day, that night. And I think that’s why he finds peace in the end. In [a] speech, he even says, “I just want to be easy with everything.” There’s a speech, not in the film, where he says this. That’s all he wants — peace. To me, he’s not just talking about the land. The land might bring freedom or ease his ghosts and trauma, but really, it’s about the love and respect from his family.
Through each character, The Piano Lesson dives deep into different views on legacy and how things should be carried forward. Did being part of this change your perspective on legacy?
JDW: There were definitely some shifts, and in other ways, it just fortified things for me. What I do for a living — I’ve never been more certain that this is what I’m meant to do, what God is allowing me to do. That’s what this play represented. And with this film — the subject matter and this character — I’ve never played anyone like this before. I went in focused on the play; the movie wasn’t even on my mind. It was all about the play. I told myself, if I fail at this, I’m going to stop acting. It was truly life and death for me.
John David Washington
And why did you feel that way?
JDW: The way August Wilson writes, it’s like what I was saying about the Hill District — it speaks to so many people. It connects with our experiences, our ancestors, our relationship with this country. August Wilson said, “Ain’t no difference in being a white man.” It’s about using your front foot to claim what’s yours and to build an identity, which I struggled with for a long time. That’s actually why I delayed coming into this industry. Because of my identity, because of who I was connected to. That’s why I played football; I was trying to find myself, to make something of my own. Now, I’m finally doing what I want to do. But this actor’s medium on Broadway with August Wilson is it. If you don’t nail this, then you’re a fraud. You should stop.
And this proved the opposite. You and your brother, Malcolm Washington, both experienced firsts on this The Piano Lesson journey. It marked your Broadway debut and his feature directorial debut. How did you support each other through this process?
JDW: That was such a crazy coincidence, too, with August Wilson to bring us there. A lot of times, it’s what we didn’t say to each other. It’s what we didn’t necessarily have to complain about. There was no complaining. We know the privileged position we’re in to be able to tell this story. We understand the weight and the importance of this August Wilson American Century Cycle, and we’re next up. And not only do we know it, but we’re also taking a risk here because we want to say it a little differently. We want to tell the story just a bit differently, to open it up, so to speak. We want to make it accessible to the newer generation and acceptable to the OGs, the Wilsonians. And honestly, when we were working, I wasn’t thinking of my brother. I was thinking of a director I’m very much a fan of.
