A storm of drums fills the theater. Jonathan Pratt, the play’s composer and exposed percussionist, delivers pulse-pounding beats that makes finding your seat fantastically epic. Suddenly, we see three men. They are the Brothers Size — the protagonists and namesake of the second in Tarell Alvin McCraney’s “Brothers/Sisters” series and a continuation of his focus on community and family.
Elegba’s (Antwayn Hooper) throat produces angst-ridden song as he dances around Oshoosi (Okieriete Onaodowan) whose body writhes on a bed of rocks. There are no props; the only evidence of the shovel in Ogun’s hands are his exasperated gestures and the stage directions, which he dictates aloud. There is no scenery to indicate that the characters live in an impoverished, modern-day neighborhood in Louisiana. Ogun (Joshua Elijah Reese) finishes his shoveling, picks up his bucket, and circles Oshoosi, the sand from his perforated bucket forming a ring around the younger Size brother. The dramatic introduction is a mere sampling of some of the striking, occasionally overzealous mysticism intertwined in this otherwise realistic and gritty story.
Oshoosi Size has just been released from prison and takes up residence with his older brother, Ogun. Ogun, the hard-working mechanic, pries his brother to get up, get going, and get a job. As expected, Elegba is the bad influence external to the family, the residual of Oshoosi’s time in prison and the looming possibility of future poor (or maybe just a little confused) choices.
In almost every scene, Elegba and Ogun stand opposite with Oshoosi in the middle. It’s the tried and true formula of placing one character between two others, one representing the polar opposite of the other. The dream sequences were just an excessive conveyance of this familiar plot device. However, too few times have such circumstances been captured in a modern setting on the stage and through creative use of stage directions and sand, McCraney makes classic story devices compelling again. Elegba, erotically drawn towards Oshoosi and his “siren voice,” teeters outside the sand circle, enticing Oshoosi to breach its bounds and come outside of it with him.
The characters may take their names from the Yoruban gods but they play familiar figures. The southern vernacular slides smoothly off their tongues. Okieriete, Joshua, and Antwayn are flawless in their dialogue and it feels as if Ogun and Oshoosi are our brothers and Elegba is the shady face from our own past. As the action progresses, the complexity of the different relationships is revealed and we begin to understand why Ogun and Oshoosi’s brotherhood is so strained.
Pratt’s drumset is a force to be reckoned with. Appropriate dings and pounds punctuate an eyebrow raise or a smile in a rather cartoonish fashion, making for some humorous moments. Tempo and volume also aide to build emotion in several scenes, imitating the physiological process of both the audience and actors, simulating quickening heartbeats and heavy breathing. Both the actors’ and Pratt’s timing are effortless. On a few occasions, a rhythmic underlayer accompanies the actors’ rich voices, turning monologues into a slice of song that drives home the angst, joy, and frustration the characters feel.
The unflinching juxtaposition of comedy and tragedy is bold. Some of the older audience members seemed uncomfortable with certain moments such as when Oshoosi masterfully simulated sex for a good minute or two, leaving no gesture or position undemonstrated. The jokes and the liberal use of racially charged words rendered some spectators rigid but eventually there was little choice but to relax and laugh — the beautiful result of McCraney’s nuanced writing and the committed acting.
There are moments of overpowering emotion which are especially heart-wrenching for someone who has never seen a serious play and is witnessing all these cries and accusatory finger pointings in real time, right before their eyes. The hard reality that his actions affect more than just himself is inescapable to Oshoosi. The truth of things as they are, and how they must be, hits not only the characters, but resounds and reverberates into the audience like the sound wave that comes after the bang of a drum.
