BWW Reviews: Powerful Performances Elevate SCR's 'TOPDOG/UNDERDOG'

Both history and literature are peppered with intense stories of sibling rivalry. The most contentious of the lot often recount the environmental and circumstantial forces that pit them against one another, sometimes resulting in wrenching, tragic results. Added to this cannon almost a decade ago was Suzan-Lori Parks' searing two-person drama TOPDOG/UNDERDOG, currently enjoying a well-executed revival production at South Coast Repertory in Costa Mesa through January 29.

Brimming with foreboding tension and biting humor, the Pulitzer Prize-winning play (and a 2002 Tony Award nominee for Best Play) tells the haunting story of two African-American brothers—Lincoln (Curtis McClarin) and his younger brother Booth (Larry Bates)—who attempt to navigate their seemingly stunted adulthood while being on a constant battle with the pressures of severe poverty and family history. But as their diametrically opposing names foretell (it is perhaps not a coincidence that their father, as a joke, named his children after The Great Emancipator and the man who later assassinated him), the two also clash with each other in a never-ending game of one-upsmanship.

The two have grown up already weighed down by disappointment: after being abandoned by their mother at a young age, their father, too, later follows suit. Not only were the parent-less brothers forced to grow up quickly, they were also forced to rely on only each other for survival. This early setback has obviously had an extreme effect on them and, as the play unfolds, we bear witness to a slow unraveling of two very broken people perpetually trapped by their less than adequate circumstances.

Their shared lives up to this point have been colored by debilitating heartache, a by-any-means method of self-preservation, and a fabricated machismo resulting in unsuccessful relationships with the women they romance. By the looks of things, their only source of some joy is besting the other—as if asking, "which one of us is more f***ed-up than the other?"

At the top of the play, we learn that both brothers are at a crossroads. All alone in his filthy apartment, Booth is seen practicing the artful scam of three-card monte on his ad-hoc casino setup made up of rotting crates and a cardboard flattop. Furiously swapping cards, he giddily imagines to himself being so good at it that he wins wads of money from his imaginary victims.

Meanwhile, suitcases are seen freshly lining the opposite wall of the living room. As we soon learn, Booth's older brother Lincoln—a homeless nomad since leaving his wife—has come to stay in his apartment. It's an unsavory arrangement that has its perks: For Booth, having his brother there not only provides the only steady source of "honest" income in the household, it also allows him access to his once successful, street-savvy mind.

After relinquishing the dangerous life of a street hustler, Lincoln is now employed as a, yes, Abraham Lincoln impersonator at an arcade, complete with stovepipe hat, a fake beard, and chalk-white make-up (his boss also seems to think it's "a hoot" that he has the same name as the man he's pretending to be). Humiliated daily, he sits in a chair and waits as tourists pay for the privilege of re-enacting the murder of the man he's portraying. It's certainly not an ideal line of work, but Link (as his brother calls him) feels this is better than the risky alternative.

Ironically, that risky alternative is what Booth so desperately wants to do. Always pressing for tips and tricks of "the trade" from his older brother, Booth hopes that his chosen life of petty theft and rapid three-card-monte games would make for easy, instant income. But more than anything, Booth wants to not only follow in his brother's footsteps, he also wants to be even better at it than Link ever was. For his part, Link seems to struggle with being fearful for his brother and not having Booth best him at his own, albeit former, game.

Gritty and, at times, unflinchingly raw, TOPDOG/UNDERDOG is not an easy play to sit through... but for good reasons. Tightly helmed by Seret Scott—whose last directorial effort at SCR was the equally-powerful revival of August Wilson's FENCES in 2010—the heated, sometimes darkly funny drama makes for an uncomfortable, unsettling play in that an audience member never knows what volatile behavior might burst forth from such emotional characters. This overarching uneasiness that hangs over the entire play—as if something really awful is about to happen and any pleasant resolution seems futile—all feels rather labored. Yet ultimately, this 'slow burn' makes its climax all the more stirring.

The constant battle Lincoln and Booth engage in for dominance and bragging rights is especially unnerving considering it's all set in one cramped apartment (expertly designed and ghetto-fied by Shaun Motley). Though we are treated to moments of welcome levity, the bulk of the play is us witnessing a pair of suffocated siblings marinating in their own inescapable feelings of anger and resentment, exacerbated by their dilapidated living conditions. Such close quarters should never be shared by two people with such burgeoning tensions in their souls.

While it still feels as though it could've used about thirty or so less minutes in its overall running time to tell its story, it's quite difficult to pin-point what needs to be trimmed out—especially with two such superb actors giving the audience such visceral, lived-in performances. Their powerful, gut-wrenching portrayals make every syllable seem rife with importance. Each outburst, each laugh, each confession, each inflection—it all demands your undivided attention.

As the more erratic brother Booth, Bates is not only great with comic delivery, he's also believably menacing and, yet, believably vulnerable. His sparring partner McClarin is equally as dynamic, and can convey so much even with just his eyes or donning a silent facial expression. Together, the two actors show a genuine rat-tat-tat rapport while their individual monologues are eerily stirring. By the time the play climaxes, it both still shocks and comes as no surprise—shaking you to the core.

Follow this reviewer on Twitter: @cre8iveMLQ

Photo: Larry Bates & Curtis McClarin (right, standing) by Henry DiRocco/SCR.

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Performances of TOPDOG/UNDERDOG continue at South Coast Repertory through January 29, 2012 at the Julianne Argyros Stage. Shows start at 7:45 p.m. Tuesday through Sunday nights, with matinees starting at 2:00 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. Contains strong language.

Tickets, priced from $20 to $68, can be purchased online at www.scr.org, by phone at (714) 708-5555 or by visiting the box office at 655 Town Center Drive in Costa Mesa.