Something bad that keeps rising… Booth’s words to Link. Do you feel it, too? But before Link can answer, Booth determines that Link does a better job keeping his demons at bay. After all, he’s chosen a clean life after years of hustling three-card Monte. He won’t even touch the cards.
In a season of site-specific shows, Ubuntu takes us to the Waterfront Playhouse in Berkeley, to a tiny black box theater. Here we are voyeurs into Booth and Link’s living quarters, of less than average amenities, they are two brothers barely surviving. Sleeping on crates, eating off crates, stuffing stolen clothes into crates, and storing their few beloved personal items in crates. Their parents abandoned them as children, first their mother, then their father. Each left the other brother a $500 dollar inheritance, leaving Booth to wonder, did they plan the escape together?
Their father amusingly named them after Abraham Lincoln and John Wilkes Booth. Even more amusing, Link’s honest new living is impersonating Abraham Lincoln, a role for which he has to don a white face and practice reenacting the infamous assassination.
There’s a playful likability to Booth, played by Michael Curry. There’s a youthful optimism, a naïveté in his approach. Link is the older brother, played by Dorian Lockett. He’s a bit more serious, he has a weight he carries. His trauma is much more visible, in contrast to Booth, who carries his perpetual teenage angst on his sleeve. Lincoln is also considerably larger in stature, and has a quiet presence over Booth. Booth is noisy and erratic, he’s the underdog pretending to be a topdog, exerting any control he can over their relationship in which he clearly feels a lack of control.
This lack of control spills over to his life outside the room as well… unseen are the women in their lives… Booth’s on and off girlfriend Grace, and Link’s ex-wife Cookie. Booth aggressively pursues Grace throughout the play; we know little of her but the few clues given lead us to believe that she has long moved on. Booth uses both Grace and Cookie to repeatedly exert his sexual prowess over Link, who seemingly brushes it off. Booth enjoys repeating the fact that he seduced Cookie to rub salt into Link’s hurt ego. Link in turn teases Booth about Grace’s lack of interest. Their seemingly inability to provide creates a constant sense of rejection. Underlying the banter, we find both men struggling with their masculinity; a feeling of inadequacy, their insecurities. A dissatisfaction stemming not only from their financial issues, but also from their fear of abandonment.
At large, there are moments that make us feel that this fear of abandonment is a commentary on society’s constant abandonment of those who live their lives on the margins. In this case, it’s poverty and race. In this space, we feel far removed from the outside world. We feel Lincoln and Booth have been abandoned not only by their parents, but by the world.
From that place, both brothers want to be seen and heard, they fight each other in a feeble attempt to win back their power. They want to be in control of their destiny, but as the play goes on, they fall more and more into their inescapable fate. The more they lose, the more they lash out at each other. This constant sibling tension gives way to a chilling climax after which everything becomes clear. This rising heat sets the pace and that rhythm colors the way the actors move across the space and interact with each other. Kimberly Ridgeway deftly handles setting the stage for this chemistry to occur. There are moments where it’s not perfect, but it’s true to Suzan-Lori Parks vision. Both Curry and Lockett grasp the words with ease, and Ridgeway creates the space where they can explore this tense rivalry.
There’s strong social commentary, and it’s topical to current socio-political affairs involving gun violence and toxic masculinity. This production approaches the commentary with a sense of humanity. Neither actor anticipates the conclusion, and neither actor judges their roles. This sensitivity is not only the mark of great craft, but also the mark of recreating an incredible play into a work of meaningful art. An ominous black cloud hovers over this play; like a hustle, we are doomed from the start, but the art itself makes us want to try.
Topdog/Underdog runs now through June 10. For more information and pay-what-you-can subscriptions visit www.ubuntutheaterproject.com.
