Maanomaa, My Brother: bonds that cannot be broken
22 Apr 2023

by Drew Rowsome - Photos by Dahlia Katz

Summarizing the plot of Maanomaa, My Brother would be redundant. While there is a non-linear but clear plotline, it is laced with ambiguity. What writers and actors Tawiah M'Carthy (Obaaberima, Black Boys) and Ben Cook have created is a distillation of narrative in search of emotional truth. Two boys play under a mango tree, chasing after and rescuing an injured bird. Twenty-five years later Kwame (M'Carthy) returns to Ghana from Canada for a funeral. Will (Cook) comes to pay his respects. And to reunite with Kwame after all those years apart. To attempt to bridge the event that tore their friendship apart.

The childhood scenes are exuberant, full of energy and possibility. The adult scenes are awkward as the characters struggle with their emotions, secrets, and for the right words to say. The aching innocence of the childhood scenes carries over. We may never be told the exact incident that destroyed their friendship - several possibilities are suggested - but that lack of specificity is quintessentially child-like. They don't understand events that were beyond their control, why should the audience? Will's family moved to Canada after something happened between Will's father, a journalist, and Kwame's father, a man of some importance in Ghana. Politics? A sudden awareness of the racial divide that the boys do not see? The potential sexual attraction between the boys that is a very subtle subtext? What is crucial is that the friendship is broken by forces beyond their control. Kwame is hurt and shuts down, Will keeps trying to renew.

The friendship is echoed in the close partnership that M'Carthy and Cook exhibit on stage. Their roles are very active requiring split second timing as they race across and around the minimalistic but evocative set, as well as rich with text that bounces between the two. It is two entities functioning as one, complementing and as playful as the games the two boys play. It is also riveting theatre as the two take on many roles beyond Kwame and Will. Accents, changes of posture, mannerisms and seemingly entire personalities are donned and discarded with deceptive ease. At one point, where within minutes both Mc'Carthy and then Cook play Kwame's father, the effect is uncanny. As if the transference of a soul had taken place. It also demonstrates, though it has already been done so repeatedly and without comment, the depth of the bond between the characters. And the actors. Race, gender, age and even species become irrelevant in the space onstage. And that liberation flows into the audience. Let's pretend becoming a utopian reality.



Both actors are extraordinarily talented and their charisma papers over a significant shortcut towards the end, allowing for a cathartic and dramatic ending. The extensive use of movement and mime to express emotional truths is put to good use here, generating a stunning moment conjured out of thin air. A whisper of hope that resonates. There are many sequences that express a lot by refining words and movement to their essences. Will relives his father's cognitive decline, an entire gut-wrenching play in mere minutes. Kwame arrives in Ghana uptight and Canadian, before passing through customs and relaxing into his (still uptight) Ghanian past. A journey filled with a multitude of subtle emotions. He is ably assisted by Cook in a half dozen clearly defined, and frequently comic, supporting characters. The only flaw is that the actors, despite resisting what must be the temptation to grandstand, can't help but be upstaged by their versatility.

Director Philip Akin has helped shape similar material with Pass Over, where the details and mysteries were more crucial than the plot. And with a similar central relationship. At one point Will defends Kwame from being called a "sissy," Kwame bestows a lingering glance on Will's posterior, and there is a longing awkwardness to the games they play that all involve touch. Yet I would question that the secret that tore them apart was sexuality, that would be a different play. Maanomaa, My Brother is about friendship, reaching across societal divides of all kinds. When the boys declare that they are 'brothers' and seal it with a secret handshake, the moment resonates throughout the play. Something so beautiful and pure cannot be sustained, but Maanomaa, My Brother posits that it can be found again. And demonstrates that it can be created and gifted to an audience.