I walked into The Brothers Size with high expectations. After all, Tarell Alvin McCraney wrote one of my favorite films, the 2016 Oscar winner for Best Picture, Moonlight, and the production starred one of my favorite actors, the inimitable André Holland.
What I experienced was not just a play, but a breathtaking piece of art that moved through body, spirit, and heart. I was prepared for something powerful, and it did not disappoint.
The Shed’s theater 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, accompanied by powerful African drums placed just outside the ring. The setup made it feel as if we were stepping into something sacred, fitting since 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 ceremonial spreading of sand to the live drums, I was drawn in from the start. The energy was electric yet grounded. There is no intermission, just 90 uninterrupted minutes of storytelling through movement, rhythm, and language. The percussion, performed live by Munir Zakee, wasn’t simply background; it was a heartbeat that propelled the emotion of every scene.
André Holland plays Ogun Size, the stoic, protective older brother, 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 blend of tension and love that felt deeply authentic and palpable. The show struck a delicate balance, giving space for heartache, rage, and disappointment, while also making room for humor, hope, and tenderness.
Malcolm Mays brought a magnetic presence to the role of Elegba, Oshoosi’s prison friend with complicated intentions. His performance carried both mystery and longing, adding another emotional layer to the story.
What stayed with me most 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 as if they were reclaiming their narratives in front of us. I loved that choice.
There is so much tenderness and unspoken trauma in this play. You feel the weight of what the characters carry: racism, incarceration, childhood trauma, broken dreams, but you also feel the deep love, hope, and loyalty between brothers. More than once, it brought me to tears, especially in the quieter, more vulnerable moments.
This isn’t just a play. It’s a full-body experience. The choreography, music, language, and emotion are all carefully woven together. It is one of the most beautiful and honest pieces of theater I’ve experienced in a long time, and I can’t stop thinking about it.
The Brothers Size is a must-see before it closes at The Shed in New York City on September 28. It is one of the most beautiful and honest pieces of theater I’ve experienced in a long time.
