The Brothers Size opens with a chant proclaiming that “the road is rough” before showing what that means in a universe of two. Stories examining relationships between brothers or between sisters are too rarely seen in serious drama. Given their complexity and intensity, they’re an ideal source for creating captivating story telling. Tarell Alvin McCraney’s own struggles in the world of sibling dynamics inspired the searing truths he exposed in The Brothers Size, the second segment of his renowned Brother/Sister trilogy.
Previous productions of the trilogy at Steppenwolf had critics and theater goers spinning with delight. Earlier this year, his screenplay High Flying Bird, a sports drama about elite athletes taking ownership of their talent’s marketability, revealed how fresh movies can sound and how vividly stories can be drawn when emanating from a brilliant theatrical mind. He’d won an Oscar for another screenplay, Moonlight, in 2017.
But The Brothers Size is not a new play. Recently celebrating his 40th birthday, it’s a work McCraney created twenty years ago when he was grappling with the weighty responsibility of being an older brother to a younger one on the verge of being lost to the streets.
A conversation with anyone who is the oldest sibling will likely reveal that he or she has no love for their ranking in the hierarchy. Many consider it a liability. You become a surrogate parent when the real one isn’t around. You must guide, protect and teach. For some, it all comes naturally with love. But for most, it’s a burden they can resent, however mildly, for a lifetime. The feeling Ogun (Manny Buckley) has for his brother Oshoosi (Patrick Agada) lies somewhere in between.
With no other brothers and sisters and both parents deceased, the stakes go up when the pool is small. Raised by an unsympathetic and callous aunt, their only source of genuine love comes from each other.
Although it’s the second play of trilogy, McCraney wrote The Brothers Size first. All three plays tap into African notions of the origin of the universe to instill conceptual context and many of the same characters dominate all three plays. According to Yoruba beliefs, Ogun is the God of iron and in this play the most pivotal character. As the owner/operator of a car repair shop, working on metal is his livelihood and Yu Shibagaki’s set design radiates the austere grittiness of a hard-won purpose driven existence. Ogun has struggled for a long time to find a tool that will fix his younger brother whose carefree outlook on life always seems to find a way to jeopardize his own well-being. We meet them when Oshoosi has just gotten out of prison. Because of Ogun’s palpable frustration, the air is charged with tension.
Pragmatic and resolute, Ogun is the consummate big brother. A rock. From McCraney’s pen and under the direction of Monte Cole, he’s both the kind of big brother you’d come to expect and one you’ve never seen before. Everything McCraney creates is intentionally relevant and anchored in truths unique to Black American culture. Brothers with black skin must navigate the world differently. Other minorities recalibrate expectations based on race, too. As one Angelino of Mexican heritage noted in an interview, “We’ll never be white enough for America….”. Both black and brown Americans know the heel of the society’s boot. And both know that it’s pressed down a little harder on Black necks. It’s that reality that Ogun wants to instill in his free-spirited brother so that he’ll be more careful and avoid having his life any further compromised by the imbalance of consequences plaguing this country. But true to Oshooshi’s nature, all he wants to do is get a car and ride.
Fate, individual character and the people who revolve in our personal universe can all conspire against good intentions. Elegba, played so enigmatically and elegantly by Rashaad Hall, was difficult to read initially. He befriended Oshoosi in prison and seemed overly devoted to him when they both got out. Oshooshi hungered for a car and Elegba found a way to get him one. Sometimes tiny drops of desires would spill from his lips when he talked to or about Oshooshi and he once let his hand rise tentatively to tenderly touch his friend. Although always wildly enthusiastic about his passion for women, Elegba remained his close friend; making the possibility of Oshooshi’s sexual fluidity more and more credible.
The youthful vivacity and sparkle Patrick Agada brought to his characterization of Oshooshi often had the audience grinning from ear to ear with his antics. Launching into a riff on Otis Redding’s Try a Little Tenderness, the routine soon escalated from fun to fantastic; reinforcing an appreciation for the versatility embodied in talented actors.
Techniques used to enhance the audience’s enjoyment and understanding of the play were particularly effective and even pleasurable. Scrolling projections placed high on either side of the stage provided the text of what each actor was saying and proved essential for closely following dialogue. When actors were seated with their backs to the audience, live frontal projection images filled the back of the stage and allowed the audience to read their faces and well as listen to their words.
It’s McCraney’s willingness and wonderful ability to tell sturdy and engrossing stories about people you know, or people in which you recognize yourself, in beautiful and penetrating ways that make him so vital to contemporary theater.
The Brothers Size
October 2 – 19, 2019
Steppenwolf Theater
1650 N. Halsted St.
Chicago, IL 60614
312-335-1650
