Love and scandal are the best sweeteners of tea. —Henry Fielding

18 March 2004

I stood. I hollered. No joke.

The roommate and I had a long-ish conversation tonight because I came home practically singing.  Manohmanohmanohman!  Fucking good theatre.

Topdog/Underdog was serious next-level shit.  No joke.  Amazing fucking writing, acting, fucking directing.  Serious.  Blew me the fuck away!  What a creation!  Without joking, the play was so good that I feel that Suzan Lori-Parks actually taught me about my relationship with my brother.  For me her plays have always been only about language... impossible to stage, even in my head. They are bodiless creations.  Voices without physiques.  Topdog is semi-realistic, of course, like the rest of her new plays, but I read the play and it didn't read like this. 

Whoa.  Fucking WHOA.  I didn't expect to understand.  But the relationship is the same.  The brother/brother relationship is still the same.  I wonder if Allan has a brother.

Topdog.  Fucking topdog.  That is me.  If you have not seen this show... go.

Yeah, Caloca didn't really dig it like I did.  But he doesn't have a brother.

I'll think of more to say later in the way of a real review, but I don't think a real review is necessary.  Just go: there's my review.