Ngozi Anyanwu’s The Monsters is a poignant and muscular two-hander about a Black brother and sister, estranged for 16 years, who reconcile over intensive training in MMA fighting. It’s a sweet play, directed by the author at MTC’s City Center, written in a spare, mellifluous vernacular that fits well with its athletic milieu and its frequent shifts between different timelines that show the characters alternately as adults and children. What makes the show truly memorable, though, is its extraordinary acting. Aigner Mizzelle and Okieriete Onaodowan exude infectious energy and have so completely mastered the athleticism required for of their roles that their physicality feels like a facet of their personalities.
The Monsters follows the familiar pattern of fighter dramas like Golden Boy and Rocky, which trace the self-discovery of a hardscrabble tough guy who punches his way to success and salvation while contending with temptations to sell his soul. The twist here is that the story is doubled, presenting a sister’s journey echoing a brother’s, the sport is MMA, and the devil is inside the characters’ minds. It’s an image, the self-image of seriocomic villainy referred to in the title Monsters, which both characters cultivate at different times, to survive, hype themselves, and avoid intimacy.
The action opens on the climax of a title fight in which one competitor is not visible. Onaodowan performs the whole round himself in a phenomenal scene, choreographed by Rickey Tripp, where he mimes all the blows, knockdowns, and holds himself, huffing and puffing afterward as if he’d run a marathon. Tellingly, all the show’s fighting is “danced” solo in this same manner, except for one climactic brother-sister encounter late in the action that’s actually fought, and that pushes them to talk in a way they never have. The miming is a brilliantly resonant staging choice, accentuating the sport’s skill and beauty over its danger and brutality and also emphasizing that the most formidable foes of these pugilistic siblings are within themselves.
After the opening fight, Lil (Mizzelle) surprises Big (Onaodowan) backstage. She has tracked him down after their long separation and wants to reconnect, having followed his rising star online. A decade older and very guarded, he is distant and suspicious at first, but she melts him simply by being there. After she reports the recent death of her mother (they’re half siblings, with different mothers but the same violent, drunken father) he offers her a ride home, and thus begins a new chapter. Lil (whose real name is Josephine) is a bit lost and fond of booze, but after she moves in with him she shows a spark for competition and accepts his offer to begin training her.
Okieriete Onaodowan (Big) and Aigner Mizzelle (Lil). Photo: Christian Heino.
Flashbacks—touchingly performed in seamless transitions involving nothing but a few changes in voice and posture—establish that this pair had a tight, loving bond as kids, leaving us to wonder ourselves how and why it dissolved. In the present, Lil’s training progresses as Big’s intense discipline and sobriety lift her out of her inertia, and we watch their paths at first converge and then diverge: her career rises while his slowly falters. His sobriety slips, they argue about style and preparation (particularly the need for show-offy, pro-wrestling-style moves), and then she disappears from his life, maybe as payback for his disappearance from her childhood. Near the end, they arrive at their long-awaited showdown and their bond is restored.
This is a moving story about fundamentally sensitive but superficially tough people who need to overcome their inner “monsters,” and Anyanwu has written it with flair and compassion. The reason the production is gripping, though, is Mizzelle and Onaodowan’s uncommonly focused and concentrated performances. If you go see them—and you should—watch the subtlety and precision of their give and take, their listening and reacting, advancing and retreating, which never flags throughout whether they’re talking, working out, fighting, roughhousing, or even just waiting. Acting like this is a rare treat, and it’s only at NY City Center until March 22.
The Monsters
Written and directed by Ngozi Anyanwu
Manhattan Theatre Club/NY City Center Stage II
This article appeared in TheaterMatters on February 21, 2026, and has been reposted with permission. To see the original article click here.
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