Michael Dale's Martini Talk: The Brothers Size

The latest demographics released by The League of American Theatres and Producers say that a whopping 65% of tickets sold to Broadway shows are purchased by tourists and only 6% of Broadway attendees see 15 or more shows a year, making up 31% of all tickets sold. And though these figures don't take into account anyone's non-Broadway playgoing habits, the obvious conclusion is that there's far more money to be made on Broadway by appealing to the casual playgoer, despite a passionately theatre-obsessed minority.

But I wish they had asked one more question:  How many standing ovations have you given at Broadway shows in the past year?  I seriously cannot remember the last time I sat in a Broadway house and did not see some

significant number of audience members rise to their feet at curtain calls.  Think of any monumentally horrible show mounted on Broadway in the past five years.  I saw it get a standing ovation.  In My Life?  Check.  The Blonde In The Thunderbird?  Check.  My guess is that the less frequently people attend theatre the more likely they are to want to stand at the end.  Certainly it could be because they had an earthshaking cathartic experience (from Ring of Fire?), but you should also factor in the possibility that the less people see, the more likely they are to be impressed.  Or that some people just want to show appreciation for a pretty good effort.  But many of us 15+ types feel that standing ovations should be reserved for extraordinary cases like John Barrymore's Hamlet, Ethel Merman's Rose or the casting of an actress with extensive theatre credits in the starring role of a play.  Frequently, when my view of the curtain call is blocked by a sea of torsos, I wind up giving what I like to call "the standing novation," which means rising to your feet but not clapping.

So how do we return the Broadway standing ovation to its exalted status as a magical moment that occurs on impulse when you feel so overwhelmed by what you've just seen that mere applause is simply unacceptable?

I think the answer is very simple.  If people feel they've just witnessed a theatrical experience so extraordinary that it emotionally lifts them from their seats, I'm sure they wouldn't mind paying a little more for such a rare experience.  Say... 25% more?

Over 80% of all Broadway tickets are purchased with credit cards and I don't think it would be too difficult to link those purchased with cash to a debit card.  I say theatre owners should take those restoration fees and install light beam sensors in front of every seat.  You know, like the kind they have in rest room hand dryers that turn the blowers on when your palm breaks the invisible beam.  That way if anyone stands up during a curtain call it will activate the sensor in front of his or her seat and charge the credit or debit card 25% more than the face value of the ticket.  Now let's see how many people rise to show their appreciation for a performance they thought was pretty good.

Okay, who's going to be the first theatre critic to be so juvenile as to write that when he first saw the title of Terell Alvin McCraney's new play The Brothers Size he thought somebody had left out an apostrophe?  Yes, that would be me.

But seriously folks, McCraney's blue collar poetic theatre piece, giving a contemporary edge to West African mythology and the traditions of ceremonial story-telling, is a wonderfully engaging and enjoyable ninety minutes.  And what makes the evening even more special is that the play began life as a class assignment at Yale University's School of Drama, made the move to the Public Theater's Under The Radar Festival and is now enjoying a two-month run with its original Yale director, Tea Alagic and her cast all intact.

Performed primarily inside a circle of sand with a small pile of rocks in the center, The Brothers Size tells of the familiar struggle between clean living and the temptation of a fast buck.  The three Louisiana Bayou characters share names with Yoruban deities.  There's hard working auto mechanic Ogun Size (Gilbert Owuor), who can't hide his frustration with younger brother Oshoosi (Brian Tyree Henry) a recent parolee who isn't especially anxious to get a job. ("Death killed the lazy last," is his motto.) Complicating matters is that Oshoosi has taken up with his old prison buddy, the drug dealing Elegba (Elliot Villar), who now works at a funeral home.

A fourth performer, Vincent Olivieri, is tucked in a corner, not entirely visible to the audience, supplying sound effects and rhythmic drumming, enhancing the rhythms of the playwright's language. The actors, all shirtless with the brothers in tan khakis and Elegba wearing bright red ones, all speak their brief stage directions ('mumbling", "laughing"...), a device which is at first amusing and eventually barely noticeable. The writing, ensemble acting and fluidly physical staging all blend together into a joyous collaborative effort.

If you're like me you're always on the lookout for fun and unusual ideas for new musicals. Composer/lyricist Mickey Zetts and bookwriter Paula Galloway certainly grabbed my attention with word they'll be presenting a reading of their new musical based the mother of all blaxploitation flicks, Foxy Brown.  I bet this one has the potential to be a real diva vehicle for the actress cast in the role that made Pam Grier an icon for strong, sexy badass women.  I'm told it's the story of Foxy's mission to avenge the murder of her love by, of course, sticking

it to the man.  Only this time the man is a woman!  (Someone call Agnes de Mille, cause I smell a Catfight Ballet!)  Unfortunately, scheduling conflicts are going to force me to miss Foxy Brown, the musical on November 13th, but if some of you dear readers could check it out for me I'd love to hear your reports.  The free reading begins at 8PM at Where Eagles Dare Studios, 347 W. 36th Street on the 13th Floor.

Michael Dale's Martini Talk appears every Monday and Thursday on BroadwayWorld.com.

Photo of Elliot Villar, Brian Tyree Henry and Gilbert Owuor in The Brothers Size by Michal Daniel

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