By Carol Davis
SAN DIEGO—Suzan-Lori Parks’ 2002 Pulitzer Prize winning TopDog/UnderDog marks the end of a remarkable season for ion Theatre Company that has produced some amazing theatre over this season. I say ‘the best for last’ with hesitancy because this season at ion was full of wonderful surprises and excellent theatre and to tag Park’s piece as the best yet, might cast some doubts on the others.
That is not the case at all. Topdog/Underdog has but two actors. Delicia Turner Sonnenberg, founding mother and artistic director at Moxie, is making her directorial debut at ion’s BLKBOX and in 1989 playwright Susan-Lori Parks was haiedl as ‘the most promising playwright of that year by New York Times Mel Gussow. Her play is riveting and the choice to produce it was a wise one as it is in excellent hands with the director, the actors and venue. This is a must see for serious theatergoers.
The only family resemblance we see in Laurence Brown (Booth) and Mark Christopher Lawrence (Lincoln) is that they are both African American. We know that they are brothers because they shared the same parents, have a shared memory of being abandoned by them as teenagers, and were both left an inheritance, if you will, by their mother. Lincoln spent his sooner rather than later. Booth still has his stuffed in the original packaging, a nylon stocking tied so tightly that one would have to cut it open to get at it. He is saving it for his children.
Both men have worked together in many other productions, again directed by Turner Sonnenberg at Moxie Theatre that they understand each other’s yin and yang. Their conversations and give and take resemble the sea ebbing and flowing like the rising and falling of the tides.
Brown’s Booth is tall and muscular. Lawrence’s Lincoln is short and round. Booth is younger but was told by their mother to watch over his older brother, Link. They protected each other by trying to keep Booth off the streets and one step ahead of the truant officers for leaving school before legally of age while Link made his money scamming others.
Lincoln used to be a hustler on the streets luring innocents into a three-card monte scam. Now retired from this very profitable gig because one of his ‘runners’ got shot to death, he has gone legit by playing the sixteenth president of the United States at an arcade where ‘guests’ take pop shots at him with blanks or a cap gun, as he sits in a chair with his back to them. When he hears the ‘POP’ he feigns death. Booth is ready to take over Link’s street spot where the bro left off. He is a petty thief trying to make it big like his big brother and now wants them to pair up and become a team.
When we first meet them, Booth is practicing his skill (“Watch me close me, watch me close now”) at the place they share in a boarding house that actually is Booth’s. It has no running water and the bathroom is ‘down the hall’. Lincoln sleeps there in a reclining chair and shares the expenses. In fact, he is the only money contributor to the household.
Link was left homeless after his divorce from his wife ‘Cookie’. As Booth is honing in on his dexterity with moving three cards about trying to conceal the duce of spades, Lincoln comes in dressed looking like Honest Abe in white face, top hat, fake beard and black waistcoat.
Sharing a Chinese take home, Lincoln tells Booth that they got their names when their father was drunk and “It was his idea of a joke”. Both are reaching for the American Dream (where have we heard this before?) having been dealt anything but, but are on different tracks. Those tracks will change over the course of the two-plus hours of running time that we spend with them.
As the men both honetheir skills, director Turner Sonnenberg has honed in and turned up the stakes in this wholly competitive and absorbing tale. If you’ve ever watched a ping pong game in slow motion, or followed the bouncing ball, or a wrestling match you will be watching the one-upsmanship of these brothers as they try to take the upper hand one from the other. A dangerous game, this as Booth (as the name would imply) is like a time bomb ready to explode wearing his volatility on his sleeve, and Link (again as the name implies) is more pensive and within himself.
Set designer Brian Redfern’s stuffy and confining room with a bed, an overstuffed chair, a few hooks on the wall, bars on the small windows and two mismatched plastic milk crates with a large square cardboard top sitting balanced on the crates is as stifling as the air between the brothers. The crates are used as a table and sets the stage for the men, with no breathing room between them, to volley for the lead in who gets to take charge of what and when.
Link tries to convince Booth that he is not ready to go out there and woo customers because he is working backward and not learning all the intricacies but refuses to show his younger brother the ropes. Booth insists to Link that all he has to do is practice a little longer, and he can do it. Both men are at the top of their game as they criticize, put down and then share collected memories of their childhood. Watching them go through the motions gives a sense that they really did have common experiences.
Interestingly enough neither seems to hold much animosity towards their parents though as children they witnessed unspeakable acts by both. The scars have already left their mark and the two personalities are left to their own devices to work them out.
Brown is a big looming presence loaded with unleashed energy working all the time. He is either shuffling cards or getting ready for the next visit from his girlfriend, Grace (Amazing Grace) or trying on clothes he recently lifted from a ‘big’ department store where “no one will notice” or convincing Link that he is ready for the big time.
Lawrence lumbers and worries about losing the one ‘legit’ job he has to a wax dummy replacement. While he knows that he earns less than the white actor before him did, he wants to keep himself in the arcade and off the streets. He also writes songs and at one time played one for us. Even his breakup with his wife, sheds no insight or anger.
But when Link does lose his job and his fingers get itchy to get back to the cards, he makes the fatal error of boasting to his little brother that no matter how ready he thinks he is for the big time, that he Link, still has a few tricks up his sleeve and in a game of winner take all, he puts his little brother to shame.
Jason Bieber’s lighting design, Nicholas Drashner’s sound and Jeannie Gallioto’s costume design zero in on the details as the reality of what’s happening sinks in with the audience. It takes a while to get there but it is still brutal watching the final act unfold with Booth’s anger and frustration mounting as Lincoln gloats over his “I told you so” win. Like the Lincoln in his presidential booth at For’ds Theatre so many years ago, this Black Lincoln never saw the end coming.
See you at the theatre.
Dates: through May 12th
Organization: ion Theatre Company
Phone: 619-600-5020
Production Type: Drama
Where: 3704 Sixth Ave, Hillcrest
Ticket Prices: $10.00-$29.00
Web: iontheatre.com
Venue: ion’s BLKBOX
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Davis is a San Diego-based theatre critic. She may be contacted at carol.davis@sdjewishworld.com