Reviewed by Judy Richter
When the Marin Theatre Company
production of Suzan-Lori
Parks' "Topdog/Underdog" reached its wrenching
conclusion on opening night, it was greeted by a stunned silence before the
applause and shouts of "Bravo" erupted. That sequence signaled that
something really special had just happened onstage.
There
is much that's special about the play, for which Parks won the 2002 Pulitzer
Prize for Drama, the first and so far only Pulitzer of its kind awarded to an
African American woman. There's also something special about the production of
this two-hander so ably directed by Timothy Douglas.
For
one thing, the two actors must take themselves and the audience through a
roller coaster of emotions as an underlying struggle between the two characters
sometimes changes the balance of power between them.
The
two-act play is set in the here and now and focuses on two black brothers who
are sharing a cramped one-room apartment with no running water and a community
bathroom down the hall. Scenic designer Mikiko Uesugi sets the tone right away with the
dingy apartment's water-stained walls, a rumpled, unmade single bed with
clothing strewn all around it, a beat-up reclining chair, a couple of
straight-back chairs and not much else.
The
brothers are named Booth (Biko Eisen-Martin) and Lincoln (Bowman Wright) -- their father's idea of a
joke. Booth, the younger brother, had been living there alone until Lincoln's
wife kicked him out of their home. Booth gets the bed, Lincoln gets the
recliner.
Booth
is quite talented at shoplifting, a skill that provides the men with, among
other things, a nice set of clothing. Booth also aspires to become an expert in
three-card monte, a street gambling game that invariably soaks the poor sucker
who succumbs to the lure of playing it, thus losing his money and enriching the
con man manipulating the cards.
Lincoln
was a master at the game until one of his colleagues was shot to death. He quit
the con and got a legitimate job in a shabby arcade. He portrays President
Abraham Lincoln on the night he was assassinated by John Wilkes Booth at the
Ford Theatre in Washington. Arcade patrons pay to use a cap gun and pull the
trigger while Lincoln, wearing white-face makeup, pretends to have been fatally
shot. It's hardly a great job, but it gives Lincoln weekly pay that he and
Booth use to pay the rent and other expenses.
For
the most part, the brothers get along well. They often talk about their
childhood and wonder why their philandering parents deserted them while they
were still in school. Though emotionally scarred, somehow the brothers managed
to survive and to avoid social workers. The tension rises, however, as Lincoln
loses his job and Booth's girlfriend dumps him. With no money coming in,
Lincoln considers returning to the card scam during the long, well delivered
monologue that ends Act 1.
The
profanity-laden play is a searing examination of fraternal love and rivalry
that inevitably leads to tragedy for both men. Wright and Eisen-Martin are both
brilliant in their ability to reveal both the subtleties of their characters
and their relationship. Wright's Lincoln is the more low-key of the two,
reflecting his greater maturity and life experience. Eisen-Martin's Booth is
far more volatile and impulsive.
The
production benefits from Callie Floor's costumes (such as the ragged black coat worn by
Lincoln for his job), as well as Kurt Landisman's lighting and Chris Houston's music and sound. They make
solid contributions to a provocative play that hasn't had a Bay Area
professional production since the national touring production came to San
Francisco in 2003. The Oregon Shakespeare Festival staged a memorable production of
it in 2004. This Marin production surely will remain in its audience's memory
for a long time to come.