Invictus Theatre’s smashingly good Chicago production of Susan-Lori Parks’ “Topdog/Underdog” brings us a dark comedy that is both gripping and layered. This Tony winner for its current Broadway revival incorporates all the qualities of a well-written play, steadily unfolding details of the brothers who share a derelict apartment—the plaster is falling, the sink is broken, the working bathroom is down the hall—with exposition artfully buried in the dialog.
Under the direction of Aaron Reese Boseman, the audience is drawn in the course of the play to learn these two black brothers were separated some 20 years ago from their parents, who named them as a macabre joke, then walked out when Booth was just 11 and Lincoln 16.
The two have made their way in the world by hustling for money. Booth (DeMorris Burrows) shoplifts and Lincoln (Mikha’el Amin) is a master at three-card monty, where he collects winnings from marks. Younger brother Booth longs to capture Lincoln’s mastery in cards, and when we first meet him alone in his apartment, he is practicing and practicing, struggling to gain his older brother’s finesse.
When Lincoln arrives, though, we learn he has given up cards, and is now working in an arcade, in white face, dressed as Lincoln: tophat, beard, frock coat and vest. Lincoln comes fresh from his work, where customers pay to shoot blank bullets at him, after which he dutifully dies. How’s that for a premise?
Lincoln gives Booth a hard time. "Bathroom's down the hall," Booth tells Lincoln, who needles his brother. "You're living in the third world, Booth." When Booth asks Lincoln to teach him how to succeed at three-card monty, Lincoln retorts, "I don't touch the cards," and refuses to teach him. Booth complains, "Here I am trying to make a living, and you're standing in my way." We immediately feel that this argument, and Booth's supplicant role, has played out many times.
Yet Lincoln also helps Booth, dispensing his earnings, yet Booth takes advantage of him, taking all but $13, then asking for five bucks back. What Booth really seeks is the recreation of the family of his childhood, when the two lived with their parents, as carefree children, with a treehouse, running a lemonade stand, playing practical jokes on their dad, and chowing down on their mother’s home cooking. Booth rearranges the furniture, to simulate the table around which they would gather during their upbringing. But Lincoln refuses this sentiment, putting it all back the way it has been when he arrived.
Into the mix are added intriguing entries: Booth tells his brother of witnessing his parents preparing to leave, a traumatic experience. He secretly retains a stocking filled with a parting gift, which he believes is money, but it is never opened during the play. Booth has a girlfriend, Grace, whom he plans to marry—yet she never appears, and when he returns from visiting her, Lincoln asks Booth for a blow-by-blow of the tryst. His recount sounds unconvincingly made-up, but the inebriated Lincoln only vaguely challenges Booth on this, then passes out.These components point to yearnings Booth holds, which Lincoln only partially shares.
Eventually, there is resolution of the action, the relationship, everything, that is both satisfying and disturbing. The actors here put everything on the boards; it's hard to imagine them recovering and doing this again, nightly. In his protrayal of Booth, Burrows is exacting, a range from humorous clowning, to high energy plaintive soliloquoy, while Mikha’el Amin's Lincoln gives a more restrained but emotionally evocative performance. This nuanced portrait of a brotherly relationship rings remarkably true. Anyone with a brother, or who knows brothers, will recognize the mix of adulation and aspiration in the younger sibling, and the kindly nurturance and meanness in the older one.
Driven from its tiny 35-seat quarters by a fire, Invictus has landed in the northside site renowned for its big sets and large enough to accommodate some riveting immersive theater. WIth existing lighting, sound, and set capability, this space allows for production values supporting in equal measure to Invictus' tradition of concentrating on the fullest expression of the script. Scenic design by Kevin Rolfs, props by Barbie Brown, costumes by Marquecia Jordan or on the mark. The touches of music by sound designer Petter Wahlback set mood at keep dramatic points, and lighting by Brandon Wardell and Josiah Croegaert illuminate and transition fully in sync with the action.
“Topdog/Underdog” carries all the ingredients of the formula for a hot production: an eminently incredible play, in its Chicago revival at the capacious and versatile Windy City Playhouse, the new digs for one of Chicago’s top acting troupes, Invictus. Definitely a must-see on all counts, "Topdog/Underdog" runs through March 31 at Windy City Playhouse, 3014 W. Irving Park Road in Chicago.
