Mark Antony Howard and Nathaniel Weiss (Photo by Alex Moy)
This review is part of the Stage Raw/Unsusual Suspects Youth Journalism Fellowship
Reviewed by Katy Kragel
Little Fish Theatre
Through September 28
RECOMMENDED
Growing up in the High School Musical generation, basketball and theater seem to go hand-in-hand. However, in reality, the sports and artistic worlds are often pitted against each other as polar opposites. As someone who worked in the USC Football office while getting a theater degree, I saw firsthand that the football staff had zero knowledge and certainly zero interest in getting to know the on-campus theater world. And frankly, the theater students constantly bashed the lack of intelligence or empathetic abilities of our student athletes. In a society that seems to be more divided than ever, Rajiv Joseph’s King James reminds audiences that sometimes bringing together two things that seem to be opposites can actually create the deepest connections.
King James follows two friends who initially bond over their love of the Cleveland Cavaliers. Taking place in four acts that represent the four most pivotal years – 2004, 2010, 2014, 2016 – in which Lebron James played for the Cavs, Matt (Nathaniel Weiss) and Shawn (Mark Antony Howard) tackle their friendship through the lens of sports. On the surface, these two characters don’t have much in common: Matt, the white son of two local shop owners who constantly financially bail him out, and Shawn, a black writer who helps take care of his mom during her fight with MS. Their initial surface-level bickering about topics like Lebron vs Michael Jordan evolve into important conversations about race, class, and ultimately the deeper loneliness that both of these men face. Weiss and Howard beautifully carry these quick emotional shifts and dynamics with ease.
Director Akin Omotoso beautifully blends Joseph’s writing with the unique space that Little Fish Theatre currently occupies. While they are looking for a permanent home, the Little Fish Theatre is putting productions up on campus at the Beach Cities Health District. Certainly an untraditional theater space, but Omotoso uses it to uplift the untraditional parts of this play. Walking into the space, hearing the early 2000s rap, I was excited. This was the music that I grew up on and continued to hear in the football offices and practice spaces, but it struck me that I don’t often associate it with my theatrical experiences. My football recruits and coworkers would be similarly excited and surprised to see that theatrer space embraces all walks of life and creativity. That was the beauty of this whole experience. The topic of sports, the unique space, and the general ambiance that Omotoso set for the audience wasn’t what I’m used to, and it felt like a piece that people in my life who generally avoid theater – because they expect only Shakespeare or old-timey musicals (which I love but are not everyone’s cup of tea) – would flock to see.
Constantly straddling the worlds of football and theatre I learned a lot. I learned that oftentimes, our athletes felt like theater would never have a place for men like them. The topics weren’t “masculine” or “relevant” enough. Similarly, my fellow theater students would dismiss the world of sports as “simple” or “unsubstantial” in what it offered society. King James challenges all of that. A show that on the surface is about male friendship and sports reminds us of the universal truth that human beings will always crave and need connection.
With the show set in the round, I was constantly reminded of the shared experience and connection that theater creates, just like the shared connection that sports creates. The roar of the crowds after a touchdown matches the roar of the crowds at a moving theater piece, and this production of King James certainly deserves to hear that crowd roaring.
Little Fish Theatre, 514 N. Prospect Ave Ste. L-1, Redondo Beach; Fri.-Sat., 8 pm, Sun., 2 pm; through September 28 www.littlefishtheatre.org Running time: Two hours and five minutes, with one 20-minute intermission
