I didn’t know exactly what to expect walking into The Brothers Size at The Shed, and I’m glad I didn’t. I usually do a little research beforehand, but this time I went in with an open mind, but left completely moved.
I’ve always loved Moonlight, the 2016 Oscar winner for Best Picture, so knowing that Tarell Alvin McCraney wrote this play 20 years ago and that it still feels so timeless had me leaning in from the start. His writing hits in a particular way: soulful, poetic, and deeply rooted in something spiritual. And with André Holland in the lead, I expected to like it, but I didn’t expect to love it this much.
The space at The Shed is small and intimate, with stadium-style seating surrounding a bare stage. The show opens with the main characters pouring sand in a circle on the floor and the powerful African drums just outside the circle. That setup made it feel like we were stepping into something sacred, which makes sense given that the story is inspired by the rich storytelling tradition of the Yoruba people of West Africa. No matter where you sit, you’re close to the action, and that intimacy makes every moment feel personal.
From the moment the show began with the ceremonial spreading of sand and the sound of live drums, I was drawn in. The energy was electric yet grounded. There is no intermission, just 90 solid minutes of storytelling through movement, rhythm, and language. The percussion, performed live by Munir Zakee, wasn’t just background. It was a heartbeat that propelled the emotion of every scene.
André Holland plays Ogun Size, the older brother who is stoic, protective, and weighed down by pain. Alani iLongwe plays Oshoosi, the younger brother recently released from prison, full of dreams and yearning for freedom. Their chemistry was a powerful mix of tension and love that felt deeply authentic and palpable. The show was so balanced with the characters being about to express all of their heartache, rage, disappointment in and for each other, and society, AND show their humor, hope, and love.
Malcolm Mays brought a magnetic presence to the role of Elegba, Oshoosi’s prison friend with complicated intentions. His performance carried mystery and longing that added another emotional layer to the story.
What really stayed with me was how the characters told their own stories, literally. They narrated their actions in real time, breaking the wall between actor and audience in a way that felt bold, powerful, and intentional. It was like they were reclaiming their narratives in front of our eyes. I loved that.
There is so much tenderness and unspoken trauma in this play. You feel the weight of what these characters carry, including incarceration, expectations, and broken dreams, but you also feel the deep love and loyalty between brothers. It brought me to tears more than once, especially in the quieter, more vulnerable moments.
This isn’t just a play. It is a full-body experience. The choreography, the music, the language, and the emotion are all carefully crafted. It is minimalist, yet incredibly rich. I can’t stop thinking about it.
The Brothers Size is a must-see before it closes at The Shed in NYC on September 28. It is one of the most beautiful and honest pieces of theater I’ve experienced in a long time.
