Review: TOPDOG/UNDERDOG at Canadian Stage

In Tawiah M’Carthy’s production of Suzan-Lori Parks’ Pulitzer-winning TOPDOG/UNDERDOG, a shabby apartment-cum-boxing ring takes up about half of the usual playing space in the corner of the theatre, flanked by several rows of onstage seating to the left. While actors Sébastien Heins and Mazin Elsadig, who play feuding brothers, have plenty of space to roam around, the roped-off stage feels claustrophobic.

The pugilistic overtones and rough boundaries of Rachel Forbes’ set indicate that its metaphorical lines are both internally and externally drawn, with forces of history beyond the brothers’ control leading to a never-ending posturing contest to determine who is on top. Their experiences with familial and societal abandonment make them choose the closest and easiest target to fight: each other.

The setting here may be a boxing ring, but the game in Parks’ brilliant script is really Three Card Monte; it’s a street hustle that older brother Lincoln (Heins) used to excel at before finding honest work, and that younger brother Booth (Elsadig) yearns to master. The thing about Three Card Monte and games of its ilk, though, is that the deck is always rigged—it presents itself as a game of skill, but it’s really a scam, and the dealer always wins.

By focusing on the slower, more structured rounds of boxing over the fast-paced hustle of a card sharp, M’Carthy’s production invites us to watch the hands when we really should be watching the eyes. It’s a thoughtful idea that doesn’t fully pay off in dividends of energy and connection to the audience, leading Canadian Stage’s season-opener to be a good production of a great play.

When I first saw TOPDOG/UNDERDOG in 2009, I saw it in New Jersey, not far away from the Coney Island/Jersey Shore-type arcade settings of the show’s imaginings. I was equally enthralled and shattered by Parks’ unflinching takedown of the false options available to many Black men in America, the scam of the American Dream juxtaposed with the brutality of American history. Parks shows us intimately how this broken promise—that never was a promise—can split communities and rend families apart: what Pulitzer-winning journalist Brent Staples calls the “unwieldy inheritance” of being Black.

This inheritance, part metaphorical and part literal, is what’s on the line in TOPDOG. Older brother Lincoln and younger brother Booth, given mocking names by an alcoholic, absent father, are constantly at war with each other in a rolling, simmering boil of the melting pot that is their surroundings.

Though Lincoln is crashing on the easy chair at Booth’s shared-bathroom apartment after the breakup of his marriage, he’s gainfully employed; he works as an Abraham Lincoln impersonator at an arcade, donning whiteface, a top hat, beard and tails in order to be “shot” again and again by eager reenactors. Booth, on the other hand, spends his days shoplifting and mooning over his ex-girlfriend Grace, whom he claims is still in love with him—“she just doesn’t know it yet.” Both men were given a small inheritance by one parent before that parent walked out of their lives; Lincoln spent his instantly before entering into a lucrative life as a card hustler, but Booth still hangs on to the wad of cash.

While there is still a little trepidation on stage from the actors as things gel, both Heins and Elsadig give strong performances, with moments of excellent work. Heins has a lovely singing voice, and brings a wistful grace to his monologues about his former hustling life and how he’s attempted to change his identity in the wake of a tragedy; his newfound confidence in himself is shaken by fears that he is not only replaceable in this new life, but replaceable by an inanimate object at work, and by his brother in bed. His hands fly quickly over the cards, while his mind moves quickly to question his brother’s justifications, lies, and dreams.

Elsadig, likewise, gives a powerful, twitchy vitality to his portrayal of Booth (or, by his own appellation, “3Card”), claiming that he is driven by hot-blooded urges that must be released at regular intervals or explode. Booth might as well be called “Boost,” as his talents lie in an elegant method of theft; a scene where Elsadig removes layer after layer of purloined suiting is one of the show’s highlights. It’s also yet another metaphor: under all the layers of posturing, fear of abandonment, and need, who is he?

While the actors have plenty of chemistry, especially in scenes where they argue over the movement of cards, the electric energy necessary to keep the lengthy play rolling only fully crackles to life in a later scene of confrontation. I spent most of the 2.5-hour runtime trying to puzzle out why.

Maybe it’s the more sedate pacing of the “boxing” rounds that leads to the premature release of tension and therefore the dips in energy over the course of the evening. Maybe it’s the set tucked away in the corner that seems far away from the crowd – yes, even from the “immersive stage seating,” which is nominally accurate only in that it’s on the usual stage space off to the side, and which actually sits a bit further away from the action. Maybe it’s that this placement necessitates long exits and entrances through the audience, giving us enjoyable close-ups but slowing the pace further.

Maybe it’s the sound design (Stephen Surlin), largely silent except for a few effectively spooky sound cues that delineate either dream states or the passage of time, that makes the theatre seem just a little bit emptier.

Maybe it was the audience, and the fact that Canadians are less fully immersed in the uniquely American dynamics at play on stage. It was deeply unfortunate to see a number of people not return after the intermission, because the best was yet to come, with the richness of Parks’ themes coming to fruition over the final blistering showdown between Heins and Elsadig. But overall that crucial energy never quite reaches the promise of the writing, doesn’t quite lean hard enough into the characters’ realism or the situation’s absurdity, despite two very talented actors and a skilled team with clear passion for and understanding of the text.

That being said, TOPDOG/UNDERDOG was recently named the greatest American play of the last 25 years by the New York Times, and is certainly deserving of its honours. Its blistering debut in 2001 was a watershed moment for drama, and any production of it is cause for celebration and notice. If you haven’t seen the show, Canadian Stage’s version is well worth your time. But the night I saw it, the dealer was just a little faster than the player, and absolute magic wasn’t in the cards.

Photo of Sébastien Heins and Mazin Elsadig provided by Canadian Stage

To post a comment, you must register and login.

Test and expand your Broadway knowledge with our new game - The Broadway Match-Up! How well do you know your Broadway casting trivia?	Play the Daily Game, explore current shows, and delve into past decades like the 2000s, 80s, and the Golden Age. Challenge your friends and see where you rank!
How well do you know your Tony Awards history? Take our never-ending quiz of nominations and winner history and challenge your friends.	Can you beat your friends? Play today’s daily Broadway word game, featuring a new theatrically inspired word or phrase every day!