Namir Smallwood and Glenn Davis in Steppenwolf Theatre’s “Topdog/Underdog”/Photo: Michael Brosilow
RECOMMENDED
Draped in a velvet, sepia-toned American flag, the stage is set for a deeply American story. It’s one we are often not prepared to face. One that remains true even twenty-five years after it first premiered. It is a story of racism, classism and, well, American history and society. Suzan-Lori Parks’ Pulitzer Prize-winning “Topdog/Underdog” is an onion of a play. Its layers, peeled back slowly, reveal more fragrant pieces until we are left with the bulb—the most odiferous piece of all. The root of our motivations, for better or worse.
The tears that fall as the layers are peeled are merely a symptom of the process.
Segmented with the falling of a curtain and musical interludes, the story of brothers Lincoln and Booth feels like a dark comedic sitcom. As if each moment of their story together, cramped in a one-room apartment, is an episodic tale we’ve stumbled upon while flipping through the channels late one night.
Lincoln (Glenn Davis) is, ironically, an Abraham Lincoln stand-in at an arcade. Patrons pay to shoot the once-assassinated president. There isn’t enough space in this review to dissect the discourse of that. Booth (Namir Smallwood), on the other hand, is unemployed at the moment, letting his newly divorced brother crash with him—temporarily. Booth desperately wants to be a successful Three Card Monte hustler like his big brother once was. Forget Booth—he wants to be called Three Card now. He’s ready to stop living in someone else’s shadow and forge his own destiny.
Glenn Davis and Namir Smallwood in Steppenwolf Theatre’s “Topdog/Underdog”/Photo: Michael Brosilow
It is in that gnawing desire that Smallwood excels in this role. As Booth, he is a simmering pot barely holding the lid down and ready to burst at any moment. Smallwood’s Booth is calculated; each line and movement is made with purpose until it isn’t. And it is in those moments that Smallwood’s brilliance is even clearer. By the same token, Davis’ Link (Lincoln) is the most jovial I can recall from the three other productions of this play I have seen. Davis takes hold of the show’s comedy and lands each joke gracefully, never faltering from his character’s place as the older sibling in the two-hander’s dynamic. Their chemistry as siblings runs deep.
I first fell in love with the writing in this play when I saw director Kenny Leon’s 2022 Broadway revival, so it comes as no surprise that this rendition is even stronger. Leon’s careful direction lets Davis and Smallwood really make these characters their own, leaning into elements that made this feel like a first-time viewing for me. Met with the 2022 Broadway revival set design by Arnulfo Maldonado, this production seems like an encore to the one mounted at the Golden Theatre, with the same sound and costume designers to boot. At the same time, it feels miles apart, which is no big surprise to anyone who knows the chops of Smallwood and Davis.
The first performance of “Topdog/Underdog” was in July 2001, just a few months before 9/11. Before so much of the world changed in what seemed like an instant. Yet even after all that time, this play feels as crucial as ever. A reckoning with American history and the crushing weight of the so-called American dream gives Parks’ tragicomedy the equally heavy position of being important for years to come.
“Topdog/Underdog” is on stage at Steppenwolf Theatre, 1650 North Halsted, through November 1.
