Review | ‘The Brothers Size’ tests the ties that bind

Before Tarell Alvin McCraney co-won the Academy Award for Best Adapted Screenplay (shared with director Barry Jenkins) for “Moonlight,” he made his mark in New York with “The Brother/Sister Plays,” a trilogy that fused African myth, raw emotion, and contemporary Black life. Two decades later, he revisits one of those works, “The Brothers Size,” in a new Off-Broadway revival at The Shed, co-directed by McCraney himself and starring “Moonlight” actor André Holland.

The plot is simple but archetypal. Ogun Size (Holland), the elder brother, represents steadiness and responsibility. Oshoosi (Alani iLongwe), recently released from prison, is impulsive, restless, and yearning for freedom. Elegba (Malcolm Mays), a charming but dangerous figure from the past, tempts Oshoosi back into trouble.

The play is staged with near-total minimalism. The audience surrounds a bare circular stage, defined only by a ring of salt poured at the outset. Accompanied by live percussion from Munir Zakee, the three actors tell the story with stylized movement as much as with McCraney’s lyrical text. They even announce their own stage directions, reminding us that this is a work of ritualized storytelling rather than naturalism.

“The Brothers Size” cast.Photo: Marc J. Franklin

Their physicality is as loud as the dialogue. Holland gives Ogun a quiet intensity, his movements taut and deliberate, suggesting suspicion and exhaustion beneath his surface calm. iLongwe provides a striking contrast, throwing his body across the stage with restless energy that reflects Oshoosi’s volatility. Mays, both playful and menacing, makes Elegba magnetic, embodying temptation in gestures as much as words. Together, the trio generates a push-and-pull rhythm of intimacy and conflict.

Zakee’s drumming provides a heartbeat that shapes the rhythm of the scenes, while ritual choreography turns each entrance, confrontation, or embrace into an act layered with symbolism. The effect is intimate, even hypnotic, though it can also feel repetitive and slow.

When “The Brothers Size” premiered at the Public Theater in 2009, it was paired with the other two plays of McCraney’s trilogy and staged on skeletal scaffolding, giving the work a larger dramatic framework. Here, with no scenery and a sharper focus on ritual and percussion, the play feels rawer but also more fragile.

For all its beauty and occasional flashes of humor, “The Brothers Size” remains more evocative than fully satisfying. At 90 minutes, it drags in places, its lyrical style and deliberate pacing sometimes testing patience. It works best as part of the larger “Brother/Sister” cycle, where its themes of loyalty, family, and survival resonate more deeply.

Even so, this revival has the aura of an event, reaffirming McCraney’s lyrical, physical, tradition-steeped storytelling and his commitment to exploring the challenges and humanity of Black men through theater.

Through Sept. 28 at The Shed’s Griffin Theater, 545 W. 30th St., theshed.org.