ABC is promoting the heck out of next Monday's much-anticipated telecast of Kenny Leon's production of the three-hour movie adaptation of Lorraine Hansberry's A Raisin in the Sun. It stars Sean Combs and the leads of the Tony and Drama Desk-nominated 2004 Broadway revival that not only brought in a new breed of theatergoers, as Oprah's The Color Purple has these last two seasons, but also broke box office records.

It will be heavily advertised to one of TV's biggest audiences next Sunday during the Academy Awards; and should be, from the buzz from advance screenings, one of the highlights of the season and of Black History Month; and the recipient of numerous Emmy nominations come late summer.

Raisin became a passion project for executive producers Neil Meron and Craig Zadan after they saw the revival that also starred Phylicia Rashad and Audra McDonald, both of whom won Tonys and DDs. "However," reveals Meron, "we always wanted to do. Years before the Broadway revival, we tried to get a network interested. When we saw the revival with Sean and the extraordinary audiences he brought into the theater, it was the perfect opportunity."

He reported that before he and Zadan could get the words out of their mouths at the meeting with Steve McPherson, president of ABC Entertainment, "he gave us a commitment. To his credit, it was that quick. We don't know another network president who would give away three hours of broadcast time for a black family drama written in 1959."

Zadan says, "It just mattered that we made the movie and it got broadcast because we felt it was important to be seen by a new generation. Looking back at it, it was worth every moment. We're so proud of it."

ARITS is Hansberry's poignant story of a family struggling on Chicago's South Side in the 50s iwith hopes and dreams of movin' on up. Son Walter Lee especially wants to get a piece of the pie but is constantly deferred. Sister Beneatha has dreams of a better life, not necessarily in the U.S., as she has hopes of becoming a doctor. 

As the Youngers await a $10,000 from the life insurance policy of Walter Lee Younger, his widow Lena, portrayed by Rashad, has a dream, too - retiring from her job as a domestic and trading the family's tenement apartment for a deluxe home in the sky.

Of course, not every family member shares that dream. Each has their own idea of how to use their newfound wealth. For one thing, Walter Lee Jr., a chauffeur, played by Combs, has plans to open a can't-miss business, a liquor store. Needless to say, obstacles are thrown in their path and racism rears its ugly head and dreams are almost shattered. Almost.

Many have wondered where the title came from and its signifiance to the story. Hansberry was a huge fan of the poet/novelist/playwright Langston Hughes, and found these lines memorable:

Hansberry's play was the first written by an African American woman to be produced on Broadway. It premiered in 1959, running 530 performances, starring Sidney Poitier, Claudia McNeil, Diana Sands, Ruby Dee and Louis Gossett Jr. Poitier. Miss McNeil and director Lloyd Richards were Tony-nominated. The play was Tony-nominated and honored by the New York Drama Critics Circle Award. A film with the same cast followed in 1961, with the screenplay by Hansberry. Miss McNeil and Poitier were nominated for Golden Globes.

The '05 revival, with then-three-time Tony-winner McDonald as Jr.'s wife and the Tony-nominted Sanaa Lathan as his sister, was Combs' stage debut. It broke box office records. Kenny Leon, who directed and received a DD nom, also helms the TV film.

Combs, who's a co-producer on the film, said his first-time theater acting gig "was one of the most challenging things I'd ever done and it truly changed my life. To be able to tell my kids and grandkids that I did that! That's crazy! It's definitely one of my proudest things I've ever done."

He says that the timing couldn't be better for the film. "This is not only Black History Month, but also a particularly historic time where we have a historic election and also the fortieth anniversary of Dr. King's death. We always see examples of racism trying to stick its head out, but I think America has said we're not going to have that anymore. This is an uplifting story and with all that's going on, the film will have an impact and touch people's hearts. They'll get the message."

Going onstage, making his Broadway debut cold, was a daring leap for the hip hop artist known to millions as P. Diddy, but It didn't take long for him to fall in love with Walter Lee Younger Jr.'s character. "He had so much passion and many different colors and dimensions," says Combs. "You don't read scripts like that these days. There aren't an abundant of roles that look into the dimensions of a black man."

He sees things changing for the better. "You don't see those gang-banging, stereotypical movies as much as you used to. African Americans are getting more power being executive producers. The work Will Smith, Jamie Foxx and Denzel Washington are doing is opening up doors for actors like me.

"My acting coach told me that if I wanted to get serious as an actor," he continued, "Walter Lee was a dream role. I was like, there's no way I can do that. When I was offered the part, I was so thrilled and blessed that I jumped into doing it without knowing how tough starring on Broadway would be. But it was an experience I'll remember forever."

Being with Rashad and McDonald onstage boosted his confidence. "If you're playing basketball and want to get better, you don't play with scrubs. You play with guys that are great. All I could do was try to get better every day, and there were times I stood out. The hardest part was adjusting to the schedule. With eight shows a week, you don't have another life. And you're so worn out because it's such an emotional play. All I did was sleep and do the play, sleep and do the play."

Anytime he got stressed out, he says he thought of how blessed he was to have the opportunity to play Broadway. "So many would love to be in my shoes," he says. "Hopefully, what I did will open more doors for others."

First and foremost, Combs views himself as an entertainer. "The great entertainers did many things. They had businesses, they had albums and they acted. I like pushing the culture of hip hop forward so we can do other things that aren't typical - things that would raise our culture up.'Äù

As much as he loves music, he has big plans.  'ÄúI'm transitioning from music to acting. It's something I'm passionate about. It's something that you have to have to fall in love with it and be totally dedicated to. I always have to constantly be expressing myself. If I don't, I'd probably go crazy. Now I'm able to do that in other ways. Acting is a perfect vehicle for me to stay sane and to express myself in ways people don't expect."

He says he wouldn't trade his stage experience for anything. "It was one of the greatest experiences of my life. Who can start on Broadway, sell out a theatre week after week and then have it become the second highest grossing non-musical play in Broadway history?"

But Combs has no immediate plans to return to the stage, though he states "I would love to come back to Broadway, but no one has submitted any scripts for me to consider."

Combs is very blunt, saying, "I still have a lot more growing and learning to do. I want to continue working with great actors, but I'm proud of my progression from roles I've had in films to Broadway and now being able to help bring Raisin to TV, where it will be seen by millions."

Playing Walter Lee Jr. onscreen was easier. "I had time to mature as an actor. On Broadway, I was kind of thrown out onto the stage. I was trying to find the character and never truly found him until I had time to mature and gain more confidence. By the time we began shooting the movie, I felt I'd become Walter Lee. I truly did my best to tell the truth in the film."

The stakes were high, but doing the film gave Combs more of an adrenalin rush "because I knew how important it was to give something different than what was onstage. There was pressure and anxiety, but for three-and-a-half weeks in Toronto [where the movie was shot] the adrenalin stayed up."

He explains how proud he's been at the various screenings to see how audiences have been moved by ARITS. "That's an experience I've never has as an artist."

Combs noted that he drew on his childhood experiences growing up in Harlem and Mount Vernon, New York. "A lot of people think that because I've had a little bit of success I may not be able to relate. My father was killed when I was three and I grew up in a house with three women - my mother, my grandmother and my sister. I went through those years watching Mom and my grandmother work two jobs and still not be able to take care of us. I remember the look on my mother's face when I'd ask for things and she couldn't afford it."

He recalled the stress his family went through when he was going to Howard University and he was having dreams of being in the music industry. "It all related to Walter Lee's dream. I feel I was destined to play this role."

Not everyone agreed. "A lot of people looked at me like I was crazy - just like, in the play how everyone looks at Walter Lee. They forgot I've had success in the music field and run several companies successfully [including his very popular Sean Combs clothing line]. I come from the world of hip hop and most of the artists are known for the bling bling and Champagne. But, in my regard, that was blown way out of proportion because most of the time I was just in my office working or in the studio."

Combs knows about some of the anxiety that exists when you're born into conditions where your life is predestined for failure. "When you're pursuing a dream and constantly hitting obstacles, you can't give up. You have to keep that passion and motivation. The fact that I couldn' stop was something I was able to tap into for the movie from my life."

What touched him about Hansberry's writing "was her understanding of each character's motivation. I haven't read another script where every single word from beginning to end means something or could relate to something. She was a genius. That's what makes this work so timeless."

He pointed to Shakespeare's works as an example. "When people ask why do his plays over and over, it's important that the stories live on, just like Romeo and Juliet lives on. People keep finding relevance."

Broadway was like a warm up game for Combs, Rashad, McDonald and Lathan, he says; and he found himself, once again, in incredible company. "Working with these incredible actors make you feel vulnerable. They're not acting. They're living it. They're so real, you can't but help tell the truth when you're looking into their eyes. It's important when you're speaking lines with actors that you listen and they listen to you. You're having a conversation and speaking the truth. It becomes reality.

"Working with actors such as them," he adds, "you can't help but get better. You can't help but nail the scene because they're so believable. I appreciated their years of experience. I was able to ask questions and, if I needed help in a scene, even when we were rehearsing, they would still dig deep. It wasn't any less."

Meron and Zadan became big fans of Combs. "Sean's probably the hardest working person we've worked with on every level," says Meron. "No matter how many takes, he was tireless. He's not someone who likes to fail and he works hard to make sure he doesn't. Sean knew he had a lot more to prove and he strived to prove he was worthy. His commitment and work ethic was such that I stood in awe of him. And what energy!"

"Sean's very demanding," relates Zadan, "and he demands as much of himself as he does of his collaborators. He was extremely serious about every aspect of the film and held everyone to a very high level. He was always questioning, always making sure that the movie can be the best it can be, that we had the best people working on it - the best adaptor [Paris Qualles, who wrote the critically-acclaimed and Emmy-nominated Tuskeegee Airmen and The Rosa Parks Story], designers, the best director of photography."

Notes Meron, "Sean had the most to gain and the most to lose. He was aware of that every minute."

Zadan reports that the thing he and Meron admired most was Combs' ability to challenge himself up to the level of Rashad and McDonald.

Meron says it was mesmerizing "to watch Phylicia Rashad brilliantly inhabit the role of Lena Younger. Audiences here she's capable of great things, but for the masses who only know her from The Cosby Show there are going to be some surprises. She can hold her own with any great dramatic actress."

Combs sings the praises of director Leon, who has opened the play up in many ways so that it doesn't feel like a stage play. "Kenny's a genius. He truly knows how to work with actors. Every director is different. There aren't a lot out there who know to help an actor. Kenny can really bring out the best in you. On Broadway and in the film, he made me feel comfortable and allowed me to break the rules. He didn't mind as long as I did things to protect the role, to make audiences feel the character."

Leon, Meron and Zadan decided that every scene in the play that worked best outside would be taken outside. "Our challenge was to make it into a movie," explains Zadan, "and not have audiences feel they're in an apartment. We didn't want a filmed a play. So we're on the street, on the bus, in other houses, in the bar. We're all over the city; and, when we need to be, we're in the apartment."

The team made a conscious choice to achieve realism by shooting not in digital or B&W 35mm but in Super 16, which gives ARITS a slightly grainy look. "We also decided to use a tremendous amount of handheld and steady cam," Zadan adds, "so that there'd be a voyeuristic feel, like you're a fly on the wall. You're in those rooms and wherever these people are and we wanted to create the sense that you're right there with them experiencing this story."

Though Meron and Zadan respect the original film, says Meron, "We wanted to reintroduce the voice of Lorraine Hansberry, who's someone we haven't talked enough about. She is a role model in terms of being the first African American woman to have a play produced on Broadway. She was only twenty-seven, which makes it all the more remarkable considering the time. Sadly, she passed away at thirty-four in 1965. Hers was a voice that only blazed bright for a moment."

The original A Raisin in the Sun was produced Hansberry's her husband, a Jewish literature scholar and songwriter, the late Robert Nemiroff [the couple were divorced in 1964]. It closely parallels events in the playwright's life.

Born on Chicago's South Side, the playwright was the youngest of four children of a prominent real estate broker. She went on to become a magazine writer. When the family moved to an all-white neighborhood, they faced fierce racial discrimination from, as Hansberry described it, "a hellishily hostile white neighborhood."

Her father battled against a binding covenant that, in essence, prohibited blacks from buying homes in the area. The case led to the landmark Supreme Court case of Hansberry v. Lee. Mr. Hasberry was able to have the covenant struck down but fierce resistance to the family's presence continued.

Three months before her death, Hansberry saw a second play, The Sign in Sidney Brustein's Window arrive on Broadway for 101 performances. It closed the night she died. Hansberry had been working on a novel and three plays. A third play, Les Blancs, had a short run in late 1970.

Nemiroff adapted much of Hansberry's unpublished work into the hugely successful 1968 Off Broadway play To Be Young, Gifted and Black, which appeared in book form. Hansberry's friend, singer Nina Simone, no stranger to controversy herself, had a hit with a song titled after the play.

A musical version of ARITS, simply called Raisin, by Judd Woldin and Robert Brittan, opened in 1973, winning the Tony for Best Musical. Like the original play, It was produced by Nemiroff, who co-adapted the Tony-nominated book with Charlotte Zaltzberg. The stars were Virginia Capers, Joe Morton [as Walter Lee], Ernestine Jackson and Ralph Carter, all nominated with Miss Capers winning.

Debbie Allen, sister to Miss Rashad, later to become a choreographer and Tony-nominated and DD-winning actress, in only her second Broadway role, played Beneatha. Allen is directing the black version of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, which opens next month. 

Combs reveals that when decided to take the leap to Broadway for the ARITS revival, he received strong moral support from Sidney Poitier, who originated the role of Walter Lee. "When I was offered the role, I immediately reached out to Sidney. I wanted to tell him and get his thoughts. He was very excited and supportive. He literally passed me the baton, giving me confidence, support and inspiration."

He also reports that Ruby Dee, the original Beneatha and the late Ozzie Davis took him under their wing. "They felt it was important to expose A Raisin in the Sun to a new generation. The day after the first preview on Broadway, I had like an acting session with Ruby Dee and Ozzie Davis. It wasn't planned. They just came and had some notes on how I could get better. Just to get those arms wrapped around me was just incredible."

Ellen Stewart, the much acclaimed and venerated founder and director of La MaMa E.T.C., which celebrates its 47th Anniversary in October. The company occupies a unique presence not only in the storied world of Off Off and Off Broadway but in international theatrical circles. Just as her name is synonymous with controversy and controversial productions, it ranks at the top of the list of daring and avant-garde theater.

Make no mistake about it, experimentation, politics, risk-taking and challenging artistic boundaries and the public or various city administrations'Äô definition of decency have been the focus of work created at La MaMa.

The stories about Ellen Stewart, her struggles against censorship and the establishment are legendary and could fill a couple of books. She's been arrested and ridiculed and harangued in news articles. The problem is you don't how many of these stories are true and which have been exaggerated. So to get to the bottom of things, it was wise to go to the "horse's mouth."

Ms. Stewart, now in her 80s and going as fast as she can here and overseas, often in four directions at the same time, doesn't grant many interviews. But when she does, you can bet it's going to freewheeling, informative and a helluva lot of fun.

Her Greenwich Village loft apartment on the top floor of the La MaMa complex on East Fourth Street, between First and Second Avenues, is filled with photos, books, plays and a vast array of music and theater memorabilia; so vast, in fact, you might wonder if this lady could put her fingers on something she wants when she wants it or when some inquiring mind asks a question about that something.

Worry not because, like Joe Franklin in his office of nostalgic memorabilia that gives "piles of clutter" a new definition, Mama, as anyone remotely close to her calls Ms. Stewart, knows exactly where it is, how long it's been there and who's touched it last. And you better ask before you touch it!

The company's philosophy can be summed up in their mission statement: "La MaMa believes that in order to flourish, art needs the company of colleagues, the spirit of collaboration, the comfort of continuation, a public forum in which to be evaluated and fiscal support."

Annually, La MaMa prides itself on introducing to audiences at its two East Village venues to artists from around the world. "Cultural pluralism and ethnic diversity have been inherent in the work created at La MaMa," notes Ms. Stewart. "Whatever else you say about us, and plenty has been, you definitely can say we are an international theater company."

To date there have been more than 1,900 productions - and over 1,000 original scores. Resident troupes have traveled the world: Australia, Austria, Brazil, Columbia, Belgium, Croatia, Denmark, England, Finland, France, Greece, Holland, Iran, Italy, Korea, Lebanon, Venezuela, Macedonia, The Netherlands, Scotland, Siberia, Spain, Sweden, Switzerland, Turkey, Ukraine and Yugoslavia.

Mama has lectured and directed, written librettos and composed music for shows presented throughout Africa, Asia, Europe and Latin and South America.

La MaMa has given work to fledging actors, such as Bette Midler, before anyone ever heard of her, and writers such as Harvey Fierstein and Sam Shepard; composers Tom Eyen, Philip Glass and Elizabeth Swados; directors Wilford Leach, Tom O'Horgan and Romanian director Andrei Serban [still active with the company]. The company introduced New York to troupes such as Mabou Mines; and theater from the Eastern bloc, especially with the debut in the company's first decade of Polish ultra avant-garde theater director Jerzy Grotowski.

The company name came about because playwrights, directors, actors, designers and staff in the early years considered Stewart a mother figure. As one put it, "In those days, we were all kids and she was the adult." Actually, in mind, body and spirit, she was probably younger than them. To this day, even in her 80s, she still thinks young and has a sly, devilish spirit. And an incredible memory!

In a rare nod to Off Broadway and beyond, in 1993 Stewart was elected by theater critics to the Theatre Hall of Fame. She's been honored with dozens of Drama Desk Awards and over 30 Obies. And Ms. Stewart has been given so many honorary and distinguished service awards and doctorates that she has an archive and archivist to keep track of them; and cataloging the early work presented.

La MaMa started ever so simply. It was such a lark that, according to Mama, no one really knew exactly what they were doing. They just had ideas and decided they were going to bring them to fruition. "Never in a million years did I ever think we would accomplish all we've accomplish and become what La MaMa has become," she says. "Our mission was and is to develop, nurture, support, produce and present new and original performance work by artists of all nations and cultures."

In fact, growing up in Chicago, theater never entered Ellen Stewart's mind. She wanted to be a fashion designer. As a young black woman, she knew it wouldn't be easy. "No surprise," she laughs, "it wasn't. At that time Chicago had nothing on the Deep South as far as racism rearing its ugly head."

To escape, she came to what she thought was very cosmopolitan New York City. But there were surprises here, too. "Bernard Gimbel, then president of Gimbel's, hired me as an executive designer for their Saks Fifth Avenue store, but found resistance from their high-end customers." But stick by her, he did. By the time doors started to open, she had met an interesting circle of friends - some in very high places. And, in a nutshell, she decided one night to put on a show.

La MaMa began as a tiny, second-floor space over a Second Avenue tailor shop. Interestingly, Miss Stewart said she didn't start off looking to be controversial, "but we certainly stirred up quite a bit of controversy."

The first play "to get us some headlines" was O'Horgan's 1964 production of Genet's The Maids " because of his decision to do it with boys." She notes that the show that really put La MaMa "on the map," and in more ways than one, was 1967's Futz by Rochelle Owens and directed by O'Horgan.

The dark, very dark, comedy didn't exactly conform to social norms of the day. Without raising her voice in exclamation - in fact, very matter-of-factly, Mama recounts the story. "It was about a farmer who's had so many bad experiences with women that he falls in love with Amanda, his pet pig, and marries her. There was also a very attractive, but not too tightly-wrapped hayseed who's a Peeping Tom at Mr. Futz's basement window. While Mr. Futz had, well, darlin', let's just say intercourse with his pig and told her that they'd always be together, the chorus made sexual sounds which was exciting the boy. The town's most beautiful and richest girl - a stunning blonde, has a crush on him.

John Bakos [Cyrus Futz] starred along with Seth Allen, Mari-Claire Charba and Frederick Forrest. Sally Kirkland did narration.

"Now, Tom is a composer and musician," she continues, "He could play every instrument imaginable. So there he is in the wings with various instruments tied and hanging on him - a one-man orchestra. He had made a living singing on the Borscht Best as a counter tenor and he was making these sounds.

"One night, the boy brings the girl to watch Mr. Futz and Miss Pig. He starts using Mr. Futz's rhythm and the more Mr. Futz gets - gets - you know. Yes - very excited, the more the boy gets excited; and, in a very dramatic and graphic scene, he rapes the girl. He's arrested and is sentenced to hang. His mother comes to pay a last visit and they commiserate in a Southern cracker dialect. To suckle him, she exposes a breast and puts it in his mouth. Well. Right. Nothing like this had been done before."

As word spread, lines formed around the block. La MaMa's tiny space couldn't contain the crowds. When asked how long a run the play enjoyed, Miss Stewart laughs, "We don't got runs. We never had runs. Unless you want to count me running. La MaMa's early history is marked by the number of times I was running. Running from the police! Always running! We couldn't stay long!"

Mama also decided to tour the show in England and Europe. "Now, after what happened here, imagine this in very conservative Edinburgh!" Were there protests? "Protests?" she asks. "Oh, yes! The Scottish Daily Mail accused me of shipping filth to their country."

The controversy sold tickets. "They had lines down the block," she states not able to control her excitement or laughter, "and around the block, down and around another block, across the street and down another block. You had to see this scene of local women protesting with placards accusing us of all sorts of things, and audiences wanting us to do five shows a night!" As it played Germany and other cities in Europe, the scene was repeated over and over.

"You wanted to know what put us on the map!" adds Mama. "After that, we were known! So we all were laughing when there was all that fuss over nudity in Tom's Hair. That was nothing!"

Futz! later transferred to what is now the Lucille Lortel and Actor's Playhouse; and was filmed, says Miss Stewart, "with Sally riding buck naked on a pig!"

Bette Midler got her first theatrical break at the original La MaMa on Second Avenue with Tom Eyen in Miss Nefertiti. "She had just arrived from Hawaii," recalls Miss Stewart, "and she was a knockout. Quite voluptuous. Those breasts! She was supposed to be nude from the waist up, but Bette was quite modest in those days. She wouldn't take her hands off her boobs. We would go, 'Bette, psssst. Come on. Go ahead.'"

Harvey Fierstein, whom Mama had the pleasure of introducing at his recent induction into the Theatre Hall of Fame, also started at La MaMa. "We will never forget his debut!" says Stewart. "He came running onstage with his fly unzipped and his cockylove popped out. He ran off stage and I had to get down on my hands and knees to sew the fly shut."

Nudity in La MaMa shows caused "some" problems, but, says Mama, "I never did it; but, back in the day, I was really beautiful and if a role called for me to run naked, I would have. But no more!"

It didn't take long for La MaMa to outgrow Second Avenue. In 1969, it began business on East Fourth between First and Second Avenues in a building that now comprises two theatres and a cabaret.

Stewart discovered the work of Serban and brought him to La MaMa that year. "I was much more political then, and concerned with the state of the Negro or black or whatever we were called and how we were shown culturally. I wanted to do theater where a black could play a role that didn't require a needle in the arm, a jail cell, being a domestic washing dishes or clothes or being in the morgue."

To accomplish this goal Serban, "who didn't know from black and white," and Swados chose Medea, and cast black actress Betty Howard. It was decided to do the play in Greek because "to Andrei and Elizabeth's ear, the way Americans spoke English didn't sound poetic enough." She is cracking up laughing, having a difficult time catching her breath as she described the long process of putting the play in French, German and several other languages. Finally, Andrei, who's half Greek, said, 'Let's try Greek.' I got a tutor to teach the company and it was sounding pretty good. Still, with the music Elizabeth had in mind, they decided to translate further into 'Ancient Greek,' and were finally satisfied the music went with that."