The Monsters
Ngozi Anyanwu
Berkeley Repertory Theater, in a Co-Production with La Jolla Playhouse

In an octagonal space called the Cage, a bare-chested, bare-foot fighter with rippled muscles kicks, jabs, lands punches, and overcomes an unseen foe. The reigning MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) champion returns to a fan-empty locker room sans any sign of victory, looking more like someone returning from just another day at the office. In bounds a young woman full of excitement as she congratulates him and rattles off non-stop a glowing critique of the fight. Confused and not amused, he grunts, “Yo, do I know you?” followed by, “Oh shit” when he finally recognizes her — the little sister he has not seen in sixteen years.
And so opens Ngozi Anyanwu’s The Monsters, a two-hander play about a brother and sister who travel together a bumpy, sometimes circuitous path through reunion, recollection, resentment, rivalry, and reconciliation. The raw and riveting journey is one also generously peppered with heart and humor in a must-see, West Coast premiere production at Berkeley Repertory Theater (in a co-production with La Jolla Playhouse) featuring the playwright herself as LIL along with star of TV (HBO’s The Gilded Age) and stage (Broadway’s Slave Play), Sullivan Jones, as her brother, BIG.

After BIG’s expletive reaction, LIL in her typical wry and big-toothed smile manner notes, “You might remember me from such a place as childhood.” His snorted retort of “You stalking me or something?” is met with a quick, “You can’t stalk your brother.” Bit by bit, the bouncy, bubbling enthusiasm of the thirty-year old sister begins to penetrate the self-imposed armor of her more quiet, composed brother. The Applebee’s waitress who has clearly been through some rough times since he last saw her eventually is invited by BIG to stay in his apartment.
Through a series of both poignant and hilarious flashbacks when these two adults suddenly become kids, it is soon evident from their ten years apart in age and their big difference in heights — still true as adults — the origin of the names BIG and LIL. While he now calls her by her birth name, Josephine, he is still BIG to a sister who although now an adult, is often still in many ways like — at least at first — the adoring, teasing, clinging little girl of years past.

When BIG notices that every night when his sister returns from work she is soused, he confronts her and begins to set some new rules. There is a familial history of alcohol troubles as we see in one scene when she is six and he tries to protect his half-sister from their joint, alcoholic, and oft-abusive father. He tells her how he got himself clean through a sponsor who helped save him by getting him into fighting. “Took me to my first Jui Jitsu class. And it was a wrap after that.” Now watching her awkwardly but aggressively mimic his moves as a fighter, BIG suggests he can help her go down the same path to sobriety through learning to be a fighter herself.

Josephine’s first work-out day is a laugh-out-loud but also heart-warming session as she tries half-heartedly to mirror and mimic the rapid rope-jumping, the furious push-ups, and the high powerhouse kicks of her brother. But as she achingly crawls back into the locker room, BIG convinces her she has potentially what it takes also to be a Monster like him; and thus begins her rise to stardom to parallel his winding down his championship career.
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Monster’ is a term of honor in the world of MMA; but for BIG, it is also a brand burned into his reputation since boyhood and throughout his career that has isolated, plagued, and even tortured him. The desire to be a Monster like her hero brother is one part of LIL’s drive and zeal to train and to win; but eventually she begins to understand the shadow side of the compliment the world has bestowed on her brother. In a scene where she reads to her brother a poem describing how a person learns to survive by becoming a monster, both Ngozi Anyanwu and Sullivan Jones astound us with emotional depth and expression beyond adequate words of description.
In fact, each actor excels in every regard from beginning to end of this fast-paced eighty-five-minute (no intermission) adventure where in one moment they are kids romping and rolling together on the floor, in the next two adult siblings in a screaming fight, and in the next two sparring partners with muscles flexed circling each other, each ready to pounce and conquer. While it is one thing for two seasoned actors to amaze with their wide emotional and expression ranges, it is quite another to see the results of their obvious vigorous and rigorous physical preparation and training for these fighter roles. Much credit must go not only to their discipline but also to their MMA consultant, Suara Eubanks, as well as to choreographer Adesola Osakalumi for their preparation of two actors who totally convince us of their champion titles as ring fighters.

Tamilla Woodard directs with a keen eye for gleaning the most from a pause when brother and sister just look at each other for extended seconds, for when a focused spot captures a man’s coming to grips with a too-long-held sadness, or for when an extended hug between brother and sister conveys a reconciliation in ways a script’s words never could. For a play about MMA, her exacting direction along with the crowd and body/floor pounding soundscape designed by Bailey Trierweiler and Uptownworks place us in a fighting arena that is edge-of-seat exciting.
Utilizing to the fullest extent Berkeley Rep’s thrust-staged Peet’s Theatre to jut the eight-cornered “cage” fighting floor right into the audience, Nina Hall ensures through her scenic design that the staged fights as well as the hard-hitting trainings prior are enough to send our own hearts pounding and palms sweating. The stark, concrete walled locker room that with a wall’s descent becomes BIG’s apartment completes the impressive, massive setting. Lighting that invigorates the fighting matches, that exposes the emptiness of a lone person in a locker room, or that focuses on a confrontation between siblings is all part of a masterful design by Reza Behjat.
In the end, there is nothing monstrous about either of these grown siblings who have for much of their lives to-date been defined as such by a world who has placed them in restrictive, defining cages due to their individual physicalities, circumstances, and probably their existence as Blacks. What we and they both learn is that in fact they are beautiful, loving, and more importantly, well deserved of another’s love. As both playwright and co-star of The Monsters, Ngozi Anyanwu has provided the audiences of Berkeley Repertory Theatre with a story celebrating sibling love that sizzles and soars — a Rep production that will leave those audiences with joy-filled hearts and a new appreciation for what beautiful really means.
Rating: 5 E, MUST-SEE
A Theatre Eddys Best Bet Production
The Monsters continues through May 3, 2026, in an eighty-fifty minute (non intermission) West Coast premiere production by Berkeley Repertory Theatre (co-production with La Jolla Playhouse) in Peet’s Theatre, 2025 Addison Street, Berkeley, California. Tickets are available online at https://www.berkeleyrep.org/ or by calling the Box Office Tuesday – Sunday, noon – 7 p.m. at 510-647-2949.
Photos Credit: Kevin Berne
