Brotherly bond

By Greg Braxton

March 8, 2004 12 AM PT

Times Staff Writer

Less than a year ago, actors Larry Gilliard Jr. and Harold Perrineau were strangers, linked only by their professions and their status as graduates of separate dramas on HBO. But these days they’re a brotherhood of two, spending at least 16 hours a week in cramped quarters, constantly in each other’s face as they try to stay out of each other’s way.

The two have been going at it onstage at the Mark Taper Forum for the last month in Suzan-Lori Parks’ Pulitzer Prize-winning “Topdog/Underdog,” playing brothers at odds. In the two-character play, Gilliard plays Booth, younger brother to Perrineau’s Lincoln, siblings trapped within the confines of Booth’s shabby apartment and their shattered ambitions. Both have been traumatized to varying degrees by their parents’ abandonment when they were younger.

The characters could be considered distant cousins to Guilliard’s and Perrineau’s respective roles in their recent TV stints. Both brought a vulnerable humanity and nobleness to their portrayals as troubled young African American men who wind up in prison, victims of circumstances, the system or just bad breaks. In “The Wire,” Gilliard was D’Angelo Barksdale, a small-time drug dealer in the Baltimore projects who pays a heavy personal price for his misdeeds. In “Oz,” Perrineau was “Prisoner #95H522 Augustus Hill,” the disabled inmate of an experimental prison unit who served as narrator.

Now official HBO alumni (“Oz” has ended its run; Barksdale was killed last season), the actors’ duet in Topdog/Underdog” -- alternately dramatic, comic and tragic -- is in many respects another spin on the themes explored in the TV dramas. But with the play, they have different agendas.

“I feel I’m on a larger mission in playing these characters,”’ says Gilliard, whose theater credits include “Zooman and the Sign” at New York’s Second Stage and “Police Boys” at Playwrights Horizons.

“They are truly the lost voices. Everyone sees these guys all the time, but they don’t take the time to know them. What really compelled me to do this play is the fact that Suzan decided to give them a voice. We have to live with them, so we should pay attention to what they have to say. They have important things on their minds.”

Perrineau, whose previous stage work includes “Blue/Orange” at New York’s Atlantic Theater Company and “The Love of Bullets” at the Public Theater, says he was more focused on playing Lincoln as a human being “with all the virtues and flaws, a man who has all these noble ideas smack up against him. The story is true for many different colors. I want audiences to see that in the end, he’s just a man.”

In “Topdog,” Booth is a wannabe hustler yearning to take his three-card monte scam to the streets. He looks to Lincoln for guidance, but the older brother knows playing the sham game can lead to jail and even death. Still, Lincoln’s job -- masquerading in whiteface and stovepipe hat as President Lincoln in an arcade where patrons pay to “assassinate” him -- has its own dead end. As the two maneuver uneasily inside Booth’s apartment, they engage in a dangerous game of one-upmanship.

Although the electrically charged stage roles leave them emotionally drained by the end of each performance, they also permit the actors to show a lighter, more versatile side than they were allowed to express on their TV dramas. Gilliard, who embellished Barksdale with a streetwise stoicism, almost explodes at times with manic energy, while Perrineau, who was strapped to a wheelchair that revolved inside a revolving glass cage during many of his “Oz” scenes, demonstrates a kinetic athleticism, particularly in an ominously lit scene in which he pantomimes being shot.

Offstage, humor and mutual respect fuel their tight bond.

“It’s all a matter of trust,” Gilliard, a film veteran who was in “Gangs of New York” and “The Waterboy,” says while relaxing in a Taper conference room with Perrineau. “I respect Harold’s work, and I’m willing to go wherever our energy takes us.”

Perrineau, whose film credits include “The Matrix Revolutions” and “The Matrix Reloaded,” adds: “There is so much energy we have to put forth, and it’s just nonstop, always ‘boomboomboomboomBOOM.’ I need to trust Larry and also feel the rhythm to try new things. I’ll say, ‘Man, it’s nothing personal, but let me try this.’ And I want him to feel free to do the same thing.”

“Yeah,” Gilliard recalls, “one time I said, ‘Sorry, man, I spit all over you.’ ” They laugh.

Their affection for each other is obvious. Greeting each other warmly before one performance, they chat about their days and families. They joke about onstage snafus, including the time Gilliard lost a key prop and Perrineau tried to guide his colleague to it while staying in character. “Yeah, that was funny,” Gilliard says. “But we do have to watch out for each other.”

When putting together the “Topdog” touring company, director George C. Wolfe, who staged the off-Broadway and Broadway productions, was searching for two actors who could handle the play’s “dense, hard, emotional landscape.”

“It takes a virtuosity and energy,” he says. “The two guys have to be totally dependent on each other and have to be astonishing all the time. If one dips, the whole play dips.”

Wolfe knew Perrineau from his work in New York theater but was less familiar with Gilliard. Initially, he considered Perrineau for Booth because of his youthful appearance, but he changed his mind after auditioning Gilliard, whom he called “an incredible young force.”

Gilliard and Perrineau’s former HBO bosses were unrestrained in their praise as well. Tom Fontana, executive producer of “Oz,” called Perrineau “the heart, the soul, the conscience of ‘Oz.’ ” “There’s nothing he couldn’t or wouldn’t do,” he says. “It gave me the courage to write more for him.”

David Simon, one creator of “The Wire,” says he was traumatized when he had to kill off Gilliard’s character. “This guy is the real deal, one of the finest actors I’ve ever seen.”

The actors came together last summer to start rehearsals for the play at Seattle Rep. Perrineau had seen “Topdog” in New York, but Gilliard hadn’t.

“I knew the play was a real work of art, a vehicle for two great actors,” Perrineau says. “There are so many levels of introspection, of how children are affected, looking at men who don’t have a whole lot going on.”

Still, they struggled. They had only four weeks to rehearse before opening in Seattle. “George would tell us, ‘Now move over here, move over there,’ ” Gilliard says. “We didn’t have our own rhythm. It was kind of crazy.” They eventually grew more comfortable but then moved several weeks later from the 856-seat Seattle Repertory Theatre to the 1,667-seat San Francisco Curran Theatre. They found they had to extend themselves more because the theater was twice as big. At the Taper, they’re back to a 745-seat venue.

“Topdog” was produced off-Broadway in an acclaimed production starring Don Cheadle and Jeffrey Wright and later moved to Broadway with Wright and Mos Def. The New York productions were rapturously received, but similar accolades have welcomed Gilliard and Perrineau at the Taper. The Times’ Reed Johnson wrote that Parks’ character study would not “add up without the electrifying bond that exists between these two brilliant young performers.”

Although both actors say they consider it an honor to perform “Topdog/Underdog,” this engagement will be their last.

“This is the most challenging thing I’ve ever done,” Perrineau says. “I don’t like to be sad for that long. Living life is long enough, but here I have to spend two hours in a constant state of agitation.”

There’s only one other person who can understand that feeling, and that’s his new friend.

“Larry and I have been on this long journey together, and it nearly kicked our butts,” he says. “But we now have this camaraderie. I can look back and say, ‘Yeah. We did this.’ ”

‘Topdog/

Underdog’

Where: Mark Taper Forum, 135 N. Grand Ave., L.A.

When: Tuesdays to Fridays, 8 p.m.; Saturdays, 2:30 and 8 p.m.; Sundays, 2:30 and 7:30 p.m. No performances this Tuesday to Friday.

Ends: March 28

Price: $33 to $47

Contact: (213) 628-2772