“Topdog/Underdog” overcomes weak script

Actors of Jahi Kearse’s caliber don’t come along everyday. Hell, theatergoers are fortunate when such a performer comes along at all. Especially when the performer gets to carry half of a two-hour-plus show that fully demands about as much as actors can give. You’ll cheat yourself out of a rare opportunity if you pass on the chance to see this world-class outing by Kearse, along with an excellent turn by Thomas W. Jones II, in Suzan-Lori Parks’ “Topdog/Underdog.”

In the Pulitzer Prize awarded “Topdog/Underdog,” unemployed Booth, a mentally unhinged, emotionally needy, three-card monte con artist in training shares his hole-in-the-wall flat with his cold-hearted and conniving brother Lincoln, who works at a sideshow and used to be the shit, as the euphemism goes, at the timeless, three-card, street corner hustle. They are all the family each other has as they marginally subsist, a month’s rent away from living on the sidewalk.

Kearse inhabits Booth with touching vulnerability and stark tenacity, mining subtext and filling broad strokes with uncanny expertise. At the core of his performance is a sure grasp of street-spawned humanity. Jones occasionally resorts to stock delivery of his lines, but, more often, gives Lincoln compelling dimension, rendering the character wholly immediate. As each admirably holds his own, the two are wonderful together, interacting with the transfixing chemistry of opposites engaged. This against the backdrop of Russell Metheny’s authentic, demoralizing set and directed by a wondrously deft Joy Zinoman

Would that the script matched their mettle. But, like another Pulitzer Prize winner, August Wilson’s “The Piano Lesson,” “Topdog/Underdog” presents a world of rich promise on which it glaringly fails to deliver. To be sure, the characters are there, engaging entities with whom one can readily empathize. The problem is that, despite forays of tantalizing dialogue and intriguing antics, there is no story. Wilson at least sustains Boy Willie and Bernice’s conflict to a strong build-up before copping out with what amounts to a deus ex machina ending. Parks apparently couldn’t craft a story with directions sitting on her lap, which is too bad, because she has drawn mesmerizing characters who face profound circumstance.

The first act works, establishing tension and even an unnerving a sense of dread. It isn’t hard to believe you’re seeing the work of a new, important existentialist, something comparable to, say, Edward Albee’s “Zoo Story,” LeRoi Jones’ “Dutchman” or Harold Pinter’s “The Dumbwaiter.” Parks has drawn a grim, exciting portrait of the human condition. The second act, though, does not bring this portrait to any semblance of life. Instead, Parks treads water, intermittently threatening to go somewhere right up until what turns out to be a weak, long since telegraphed climax. Albee, Jones and Pinter come through with a gut-wrenching sucker-punch. Parks relies on device. In addition to this, one wonders why Lincoln doesn’t give a damn about Booth and, for that matter, what Booth did to eat and pay the rent before Lincoln came to crash with him? This is the offering of a lazy playwright, the musings of a dilettante.

So, how in God’s name did this half-assed excursion walk off with one of the nation’s most coveted honors? Well, for openers, without the trappings of urban African Americana and attendant appeal to P.C. proclivities, it’s doubtful this script would’ve generated considerable attention, let alone an award. There also is Parks’ privileged standing with big-time insider and pap maven George Wolfe, who appropriated what once was Joe Papp’s landmark, the cutting edge Public Theater. On the bright side, it’s about time a black woman won the Pulitzer. But, considering such superbly crafted hallmarks as Cheryl L. West’s “Jar the Floor” and Pearl S. Cleage’s “Blues for an Alabama Sky,” not to mention Ntozake Shange’s “for colored girls who’ve considered suicide when the rainbow is enuff,” it’s a damned shame to see this honor go to Parks. She pulled off a greater con than either of her “Topdog/Underdog” characters would imagine.

Go see it for the performaces, scenic work and directing. And be prepared to have Jahi Kearse tear your heart out.

“Topdog/Underdog” runs through Dec. 14, at Mixed Blood Theatre, 1501 S. Fourth Street, Mpls For dates, times and ticket info, box office: 612-338-6131.