Review: The Family That Fights Together Stays Together in Ngozi Anyanwu’s The Monsters

Siblings fight, as anyone who has one knows. But rarely do they duke it out the way that the brother and sister do in Ngozi Anyanwu’s tough-skinned yet heart-tugging new play The Monsters, now running at New York City Center in a Manhattan Theatre Club and Two River Theater co-production. This two-hander is a far cry from her thought-provoking though often inscrutable play The Last of the Love Letters a few years back, but it showcases Anyanwu’s talent for creating layered characters in a play that’s packed with action and emotion.

Lil (a hilarious Aigner Mizzelle) and Big (Okieriete Onaodowan reprising the role he originated at Two River in 2025) haven’t seen each other for about 16 years. They were thick as thieves when they were kids, but life intervened and put them on different paths. Since they last saw each other, he’s been making a name for himself in Philly as a professional mixed martial artist, while she’s been waiting tables at a bar.

When she turns up at one of his fights, the two have an awkward meeting that seems like it might result in another dozen years of estrangement. But when Lil shows an interest in Big’s sport and seems willing to kick her booze habit, he decides to train her, allowing them to spend the time they need to rekindle their once-close family ties despite the choices that made them lose touch in the first place.

The Monsters is not subtle with its metaphors. Life for Big and Lil has been a fight, and their attempt to reconnect with each other is a battle too. Anyanwu, who also directs, reinforces this idea with flashbacks to their childhood that take place within the confines of a UFC-style octagon (set design by Andrew Boyce) as we witness them being terrorized by their abusive, alcoholic father (sound designer Mikaal Sulaiman creates loud, threatening footsteps that resound with the thud of nightmares). Sometimes shared trauma does not pull people together.

But the play’s title adds nuance to their relationship. Onaodowan, outstanding as a reserved, middle-aged fighter who sports the professional name “Monster” on the back of his black hoodie, skillfully glides between Big’s barrel-chested exterior and the tender heart he hides inside. He’s not a monster, but the monstrous world has made him believe he is.

Mizzelle on the other hand snaps like live wire, cracking jokes that land nonstop throughout the play’s 90 minutes. Every quip acts like a defensive block against the world, but we also see Lil’s wit and warmth in those childhood flashbacks, illuminated by orange light (by Cha See) glowing through the warehouse windows of Boyce’s set. Mizzelle bobs and weaves between the poles of Lil’s personality like a pro.

It’s the physicality of these roles, though, that makes Onaodowan’s and Mizzelle’s performances altogether electrifying. Fight director Gerry Rodriguez has created a stunning ballet of jiu-jitsu with choreographer Rickey Tripp (UFC fighter Sijara Eubanks acts as professional consultant) that packs a jolt of heart-racing energy into the story. From their initial training sessions (Mizzelle masterfully mimics the gaffs of a beginner and the dexterity of a champ) to full-on bouts (Onaodowan looks like he’s actually fighting an opponent in the ring), both actors give two of the most physically demanding performances I’ve seen in a long time. And when Mizzelle takes off her headscarf (costumes by Mika Eubanks) and steps into the octagon, we know it’s game on.

After all the action, by the end there wasn’t a dry eye in the house at the performance I attended. But that’s because watching people fight their way back to each other reminds us of what a lot of us spend our lives doing. Sometimes love is worth putting the gloves on for.