Tarell Alvin McCraney, wunderkind playwright and Miami native, finally gets one his plays produced in South Florida and directs it himself, and the result is must-see theater but not in a breathless, TV-series-hype sort of way. Rather, The Brothers Size at GableStage is time well spent because of the alchemy of staging and live performance that makes this production more than the sum of its parts.
At its core, the play is one of those oft-told tales that may seem trite (a man's fight over the fate of his ex-con kid brother), and its smattering of symbols -- in text and staging -- could come off as a mishmash rather than something akin to magic. At the Coral Gables theater, the three-man cast enters from the rear, making its way through the audience in procession: Teo Castellanos (whom we will soon know as the character Elegba) in the lead, strikes and strokes an Asian singing bowl; Sheaun McKinney (Ogun) at the rear, slaps a rhythm on the bottom of a metal pail; and Ryan George (Oshoosi, newly released felon and younger brother of Ogun), walks between them. They are costumed in coveralls, but only Ogun (pronounced Oh-GOON) wears his as work wear, arms through the jacket sleeves. Elegba and OShoosi, former prison cellmates, wear theirs with the jacket hanging from the waist, wearing white tanks and their heads shaved. When they get to the stage, Oshoosi (his brother calls him OH-see) lies on the bare floor to sleep; the others disappear.
The story: Oshoosi, just out of prison, is staying with his brother who has an auto-repair business near a bayou in Louisiana, but Oshoosi's in no rush to join the workaday world. He hangs out with Elegba, who's been free for a while. Ogun, who brings cars back to life, fears for his younger brother; Elegba, who works at a funeral parlor, seems not to be a good influence. Oshoosi talks of traveling and discovering his true self.
The play unfolds without props except for a length of red cloth. Barefoot actors occasionally state their stage directions directly to the audience, a funny bit that isn't overworked. There's some haunting choreography (and that red cloth at one point brings to mind a Martha Graham photo), as well as a few Motown moves.
Several belief systems are invoked, as well. The characters' names derive from the Yoruba religion of West Africa: Ogun, the car repairman, from the god of metallurgy; Elegba, a mischievous shape-shifter; Oshoosi from the hunter. The opening procession, with its costuming and singing bowl, seems a nod to Buddhist monk practices. Late in the play, one line seems borrowed -- if turned on its head -- from a scene in the New Testament.
It all works somehow. McCraney, who turns 31 a few weeks after this GableStage run, and a sterling cast, all raised in Miami, create a world uniquely its own but easily accessible and always involving.
