More than just a Play: Brothers Size at Seattle Rep

Yaegel T. Welch, Eddie R. Brown III and Warner Miller. 

It is a well-known and slightly over-told story: two brothers living together in the swelter of the Louisiana bayou, products of their aunt’s upbringing after their mother’s death. One is a blue-collar mechanic, and the other is fresh out of the “pen”, restless and enjoying his reclaimed freedom. What makes this tale fresh is the innovative production, and the layered storytelling of young playwright Tarell Alvin McCraney.

New to the Seattle Rep and directed by Juliette Carrillo, The Brothers Size, which has been in the theatrical circulation for several years, blends folklore, Yoruba tradition, poetry and song in this examination of the ties of brotherhood and the gamut of emotional states that result from male relationship, including erotic love.

Oshoosi (Warner Miller) is the younger brother Size, three months out of a stint in jail, living with his older brother and making little effort to find a job. He is cocky and argumentative, and the quips between him and his brother are truly humorous. But underneath the adolescent bravado lies a certain kind of weariness, a sadness that Miller casts at the audience with just the right glance. Life isn’t all fun, driving around and chasing girls. It’s harder than it seems.

Always on his younger brother’s case about getting a job and taking on more responsibility, Ogun (Yaegel T. Welch) is both the brother and father figure of the play. He has sacrificed many of his own dreams in order to give his brother more opportunity, haunted by the emotional pressure of his dead mother and the constant hounding of his aunt (who appears only in dialog). Oshoosi may have spent time in a physical prison, but Ogun stalks the stage trapped in a prison of guilt.

The third figure, Elegba (Eddie R. Brown III), is another delinquent who Oshoosi met in prison. Physically smaller than the other characters, he largely haunts the brothers’ dreams, an emotional threat to their blood-bonded relationship, and an overwhelming force in confronting Oshoosi’s sexuality.

A clearly gifted writer, McCraney’s dialog embraces colloquial slang and seamlessly couches it in a rhythmic lyricism that never falls flat. The dreamscapes (or nightmares) are beautiful; a combination of poetry, song and traditional dance, and the entire production has a cadence that leaves one almost breathless after each act.

One unfamiliar aspect of the performance that takes some acclimation is the fact that the characters all speak their own stage directions. Drawing the audience into the script, these spoken actions give the production a folklore value, as though someone is repeating a passed-on tale in the oral tradition, no doubt a meaningful choice on McCraney’s part. 

The ending feels slightly rushed and deflated, but the theme of brotherly bonds and the seeking of freedom (from family as well as a racially divided, unequal social system) is carried through, a biblical metaphor thrown in for good measure.

It is hard to believe that McCraney is only thirty. The Brothers Size is the second play in a trilogy called The Brother/Sister Plays, and if this production is any indication of the young playwright’s repertory skill, it leaves one yearning to see the bookends to this story.

The Brothers Size runs through February 27. 

Image courtesy of Seattle Repertory Theatre.