The sadness of Becker (Brian Anthony Wilson), right, who runs the titular jitney station, in welcoming his son Booster (Jacinto Taras Riddick) home from prison is painful to watch.

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MYSTERY SHOPPERS

When August Wilson wrote words, they became music.

Wilson had an ear for language. Close your eyes and listen to a Wilson monologue — and there are several in the riveting production of Wilson's "Jitney," which Arizona Theatre Company opened Friday — and you'll hear a symphony.

But the music isn't just in the words. It's in the profoundly deep emotions, the shattering sorrow, the gritty truths that are woven throughout this work.

"Jitney" can rip your heart out and send it soaring at the same time.

Director Lou Bellamy has a deep understanding of the rhythm of Wilson's language and characters. And the actors in this gripping ensemble piece live each syllable, each joy, each heartache, each laugh.

The 2 1/2 hours that "Jitney" wraps itself around you are like a trip to inner-city Pittsburgh, sitting down in a run-down car station, and feeling the heartbeat of the people who have lived and breathed those streets, that life.

The men of this jitney station love to tell tales. They are delivered like jazzy riffs, and they stun with their intensity and truth.

One story is about a woman who has just been thrown out of her house. As she stands in the street she curses everyone from God on down, all the while holding up her skirt. The men guffaw until one says with blinding insight: "She was raising up her dress 'cause that's all anybody ever wanted from her since she was 12 years old."

Stories about murders, and broken hearts, and televisions stolen from grandmothers, and too much drink are told with earthiness and eloquence.

The plot isn't an intricate one. It's more of a slice of life, with the central conflicts surrounding the jitney station, soon to be destroyed thanks to urban renewal, and a man and his just-released-from-prison son ("I don't know what to think," he says about life on the outside. "People going everywhere. All up and down. Dogs and cats.") ,

Wilson wrote plays about black American life in each decade of the last century; "Jitney" took place in the 1970s.

Cast members slid into the skins of their characters; there wasn't a dishonest moment among them.

James Craven's curmudgeon, Turnbo, was at times hysterical, but just as often deeply sad, so hungry for a life that he sticks his nose in everyone else's.

Brian Anthony Wilson as Becker, who runs the jitney station and whose son has just come home after 20 years in prison, carries such a deep sadness in him that it can be painful to watch.

Abdul Salaam El Razzac's Shealy, a numbers runner, is all attitude but can cut to the soul of matters with a fierce intelligence.

The rest of the cast — James T. Alfred, Chuck Patterson, Bus Howard, Adolphus Ward, Jacinto Taras Riddick and Julia Pace Mitchell — delivered insightful, generous performances that helped to bring to life the humor and the heart of Wilson's work.

You can almost smell the car exhaust and feel the urban grit of this depressed and threatened Pittsburgh neighborhood thanks to Vicki M. Smith's authentic and fascinating set design. Adding a further sense of authenticity were the costumes by Matthew J. LeFebvre, who made ill-fitting suits, frumpy clothes, and bright dandy outfits for characters who took to the clothing as though they had never worn anything else.

Wilson died last year, but what a legacy he left. This is riveting theater by one of our greatest playwrights. And ATC plays the music well.