
By: Darryl Reilly
“You might remember me from such places as your childhood” says a young Black woman to her older estranged Black half-brother in playwright Ngozi Anyanwu’s exhilarating yet thoughtful two-character drama The Monsters.
This is the great American play that one yearns for; articulate people face their disappointing existences with resilience. We are in the territories of Eugene O’Neill, Clifford Odets, and Paddy Chayefsky. Ms. Anyanwu’s aching time-spanning dysfunctional family scenario is simple though so resonant.
29-year-old gay LIL shows up at the Philadelphia gym where her 39-year-old half-brother BIG works out. He is a college dropout and now a major figure on the East Coast Mixed Martial Arts circuit. They haven’t seen each other in 16 years. They had the same father and LIL’s mother raised him, the two were once close but life happened. The hard-drinking LIL works as a server at an Applebee’s, has moved to the area, and now wants to reconnect with the sober gruff BIG. He eventually trains her in Mixed Martial Arts; will she assume his mantle during their tempestuous life journey?
You know what you are?
You an enigma
Wrapped in a teddy Bear
Wrapped in cinder Block
Anyway we been at this six months
When the fuck do i get to fight?

In 90-fast-paced minutes comprised of short scenes, years go by and touching childhood flashbacks occur. The New Jersey-born of Nigerian parentage Anyanwu in The Monsters demonstrates a supreme command of dramatic writing. The beautifully etched scenes are propelled by exquisite earthy dialogue which land laughs and incite emotions. “You’re meat and potatoes and I’m a steak frites bitch.” The pair of downtrodden working class characters are richly detailed. There is the mutual realization that their bond is profound and that they really care for each other. The ending is poignant and upbeat.

The vivacious Aigner Mizzelle dazzles as LI. With her expressive face, beaming presence, and ingratiating vocal delivery, Ms. Mizzelle is mesmerizing. The physically imposing and soulful Okieriete Onaodowan towers as BIG. Mr. Onaodowan’s soaring voice and volatile manner inform his haunting characterization.

Mizzelle and Onaodowan have a tremendous rapport and their tender and combative interactions truly appear as those of siblings. Their thrilling combat sequences further evidence their close connection; these are masterminded by ace fight director Gerry Rodriguez, Rickey Tripp’s bruising choreography, and Mixed Martial Artist consultant Sijara Eubanks’ contributions.
Notes on movement
It should be aggressive and surreal and beautiful
Fighting is an art form after all
At times it looks dangerous, but in slow motion or from another angle,
it can also look affectionate, sometime comforting, sometimes a dance (Author’s stage notes)
Anyanwu directs The Monsters with forceful specificity on the three-sided playing area. The actors are often vigorously in motion or still when expressing their heartbreaking confessions. Anyanwu employs high-caliber stagecraft for her entrancing theatrical experience.

Scenic designer Andrew Boyce’s simple yet arresting gym setting with its taped mat floor, grimy windows, and punching bags, evocatively serve as the sole location. Cha See’s energetic lighting design connotes the passage of time while also highlighting the actions and tones. Composer Mikaal Sulaiman’s bracing original music and brute effects are realized by his thundering sound design. Mika Eubanks’s costume design of athletic and everyday wear is of striking authenticity.
The Monsters’ title comes from a childhood refrain of BIG and LIL’s:
We Are the monsters
Some calls us giants
They cower with every footstep we take
For we shake the ground
They run when we grow angry
For they know the destruction we can render
But make no mistakes
Monsters get cuts
They get bruise
They ignore their wounds
For the bruises are badges
Their blood their proof of life
Many forget that…
The Monsters (through Mar 22, 2026)
Two River Theater. Manhattan Theatre Club
New York City Center Stage II, 131 West 55th Street, in Manhattan
For tickets, visitwww.manhattantheatreclub.com
Running time: 90 minutes with no intermission