The Power Of Powerlessness

On Halloween night, we took the train to Lincoln Park--went to the Steppenwolf Theater to see Topdog/Underdog.

Written by Suzan-Lori Parks and directed by Kenny Leon, one of America's greatest directors.

How to encapsulate just how fantabulous this play is. Gut-wrenching? Eye-opening? Riveting? I don't know--words escape me.

The play tells the story of two brothers--one named Lincoln, the other Booth. A joke played on them by their not-so-dear-old dad.

Their lives have fallen a part. And they're sharing a junky, one-room apartment that's leased to Booth and owned by an unseen, unmentioned landlord to whom they must pay rent. Even though the apartment is, as I said, a piece of junk.

Booth has no job, but Lincoln does. So Lincoln moves in, sleeping on an easy chair, cause without him, the rent to that landlord could not be paid. 

Lincoln's job? Dressing up as Abraham Lincoln--top hat and white face included--he sits in an arcade as tourists pay for the right to pretend assassinating him. As the real Booth assassinated the real Lincoln back in 1865.

Parks wrote this play over 30 years ago. But it's a darkly funny concept for business right now in this age of Trump, where Booth's undoubtedly more popular that Lincoln--at least among MAGA white supremacists.

All these references to race remind that I forgot to mention that Lincoln and Booth are Black. Probably should have mentioned that earlier, since it's sorta central to the whole play. My bad--you can see why I never went in for theater reviews.

The great Kenny Leon…

The play is a brilliant parable about so many things, including the helplessness ordinary people feel in the face of the unseen powers that control their lives. Like, to mention one, that landlord to whom Booth and Lincoln must pay for the right to live in that dump.

After the show there was a discussion which my wife and I attended cause we didn't want the play to be over--as though at the discussion they'd magically give it a happier ending. Which alas, they were powerless to do.

There was an enlightening exchange where one man casually alluded to the power of Lincoln and Booth. And a woman cut him off to say--excuse me, I don't seem them as powerful. I see them as powerless.

To which the moderator put it to all of us. Well, what are they--powerful or powerless?

The discussion ended before I could venture an opinion. Not that I'd know what to say.

I was still chewing over that question on the train ride home--while sneaking peeks at all the Halloween revelers in their colorful costumes.

And while I sat at my kitchen table, snacking on cheese and crackers.

And while I watched highlights of the WNBA game 7 championship--I was rooting for Atlanta, but Golden State won.

And while I read about Haley Stevens snake-in-the-grass maneuvers against Abdul El-Sayed.

And still I had no answer, until...

I woke the next morning--and it hit me. They're both right. The man and the woman. 

The woman in that, yes, in the larger scheme of things Lincoln and Booth are pawns in the metaphorical chess game we call life, which means they're powerless, in that their every move is controlled by outside players.

But if you consider the world they actually occupy--that one-room apartment--they're powerful. Strong, loud, forceful and dangerous. At least, dangerous to themselves.

Their power is fueled by the intense rage they feel precisely cause they're well aware of their powerlessness.

So two contradictory things can be simultaneously true.

Yes, I found the answer to that question in a moment of clarity when I wasn't looking for it. Probably came to me in a dream, long forgotten.

You know, it's a great play when you're still thinking about it the morning after.