From
BROTHER TO BROTHER
by Michael McMillan
Brother to Brother was written and directed by Michael McMillan and premiered at The Green Room, Manchester in 1996. It was performed by Ekundayo (Purple), Benji Reid (Red) and Michael Mannash-Daniels (Blue).
Michael McMillan gained inspiration from the book Brother to Brother: New Writing by Black Gay Men and personal experiences from the cast as well as his own life. Brother to Brother focuses on identity, love and relationships from a black male perspective. The play is a tapestry of many different stories which overlap, complement and respond to each other to explore themes of masculinity and love. Brother to Brother takes an honest look at taboo experiences, which are rarely discussed in our community in a refreshing and unique way.
About the Playwright
Michael McMillan is a playwright, artist, curator and scholar, arguably most famous for his critically acclaimed installation entitled ‘The West Indian Front Room’, which was held at the Geffrye Museum; and his play Master Juba (2006) which was based on the real-life story of William Henry Lane.
McMillan was born in 1962, in High Wycombe, of Vincentian parents. He gained his degree in Sociology with African and Asian Studies at Sussex University and then pursued a MA in Independent Film and Video from Central Saint Martins School of Art. Michael was awarded the first practice-based Arts Doctorate from Middlesex University. He began his writing career in 1978 with his play The School Leaver which was performed as part of the Young Writer’s Festival at the Royal Court. Since then, Michael’s work has been produced by the BBC, Channel 4, Talawa Theatre Company, Oval House, Radio 4 and Double Edge Theatre, to name but a few.
Other published plays by Michael McMillan include: On Duty and School Leaver.
Summary (Extract)
This extract is taken from the scene entitled ‘Are you my father?’. PURPLE is a black man with two biological white parents. Purple mimes polishing a black shoe (which symbolises his conflict with being black) at the same time as impersonating his white father who lacks any understanding of black heritage, culture or sympathy towards the racism his child experiences from the police.
Purple!
Purple!
Purple I’m calling you for Christ sake!
See that,
well don’t look at me,
look at the fucking shoe.
Can you see your face in that?
I want you to finish these ones for me.
Let him who is without sin cast the first?…
Good.
A rolling stone gathers no?
Never throw stones in a glass?…
Correct.
There’s no point in crying over spilt?…
Right.
Remember that time I took you to Ireland
and we were walking through Tamore
and you started laughing at that tramp
and I slapped you
(Sound of a slap on the back of the head.)
You on the back of the head
and I walked over to him
Remember that?
And I said one word to him.
And I said Shakespeare
and he started reciting and reciting and reciting,
a passage from Othello
…a black ram tupping a white ewe…
Remember that?
Taught you not to laugh at tramps again, didn’t it?
He was an actor,
his wife left him
and his family went under,
but he was a great man that.
Which reminds me.
Did you see that?
(Miming taking out record albums from a box.)
That’s Max Bygraves.
Max Bygraves goes here,
in front of Victor Sylvester and his Orchestra, okay
Behind that, is Peggy Lee
and a bit towards the back,
is some of your old Stringray albums,
which you don’t seem to play anymore.
I don’t know why.
That’s how they look
and how I want them kept.
Purple, if I have to tell you once,
I’ll tell you again and again,
until you get it into
your thick head,
that –
I have a morbid fear of disorder!
It’s things like that,
It’s people like you
that makes me have to take my Valium.
Every morning
and every night.
It’s people like the man at the post office,
who always want to stand on my corn.
Right there, (Points to his toe.)
to get himself in front of the fucking queue,
when we’ve all been standing there for hours.
It’s your brother coming in,
telling his lying stories,
about the police.
Picking him up,
Beating him up,
asking him questions.
He must have been doing something wrong,
you don’t just walk along the streets
and get picked up by the police for no reason Purple.
And don’t try and contradict me,
when I’m talking to you.
If my dad were here,
he’d be proud of that.
(Displays his polished hand as the shoe.)
Not proud of me Purple, are you?
Are you proud of your dad?
No!