The Brothers Size at The Young Vic

A stage surrounded by tiered seating in the round. We're looking down at the deep pit where, like the matador and the bull, the love between two brothers and the friendship between two inmates will fight until one has won and one has lost. We begin with the fluid movements of three bodies that produce the striking image of a white chalk circle with two thin flashes of red power across the diameter. We learn that Oshoosi has just got out of prison and his responsible older brother, Ogun Size, who owns a car repair shop is looking after him. They squabble and get angry at each other. Elega, a friend who was younger Size's inmate is introduced as a potential trouble maker or good friend. Time passes and the friend appears more and more mysterious. We hear of a sheriff in the town who has something against Oshoosi and his friend. Then younger Size gets found with drugs in his car when in fact they are the inmate's. The two brothers have a strongly emotional argument about how the cops got involved. The following evening they share a singsong and a dance of innocent brotherly joy and in the morning Ogun helps Oshoosi escape with hopes that he will travel the world. On an analytic level there is tension between the brothers over the younger brothers laziness (later revealed as tiredness) and the older brothers parental role that became a little overbearing. The climax comes when the police are once again on the tail of the younger brother and the conclusion ends with the sad yet slightly hopeful resolution of escape. But from my own emotional level it was deeply rich with energy, humour and grit. The choice to stage it in a way that maximised the power of the suspension of disbelief - with no props, no costume changes and with stage directions spoken aloud not only highlighted the actors' talent and allowed the voice of the playwright to be heightened but made every action clear, defined, raw. The focus was on the movement of the bodies that transitioned between scenes with the skill of dancers, the work of art that effortlessly evolved on the floor as the play went on and the expressive musicality of the voices and percussionist. The play spoke to me about a sibling's capacity to love and the eventual insignificance of mistakes and bad decisions. I got quite annoyed at a woman behind me who kept on commenting aloud on moments - 'oh, okay' - because that space and our attention and that silence was for the play only. I didn't want the beauty tainted by someone who had not been involved with its exquisite craft.