Quite famously, Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick viewed male homosociality as being shaped like a triangle. Two men and one woman, through which they would express their intense feelings (because heaven forbid they ever expresses their feelings to each other). Sedgwick tracked this through a couple of centuries of English literature, in which a woman always served as the third point on that triangle. Probably because those 17th- and 18th- century authors could not have foreseen the coming of a 6’9 basketball prodigy from Akron, Ohio.
Luckily, playwright Rajiv Joseph lived through the era of that power forward-playing messiah-turned-Judas-turned-back-to-messiah, and has used that man, Lebron James, as the third point on the triangle to explore the tension-filled friendship between Cleveland Cavalier-loving fans in King James, now playing at Rec Room Arts.
The play opens in 2004, where Cleveland barkeep Matt needs cash and needs it fast. He needs it so much that he’s willing to part with his Cavs’ season tickets – tickets, mind you, for James’ rookie season. His potential buyer is Shawn, whose third job of writing (third after temping and washing dishes) just gave him the disposable income necessary to fulfill a longtime promise to himself to buy good Cavs tickets. Well, almost. Matt’s asking price of $6,500 for two tickets to the remaining 19 Cavs’ home games is too much for Shawn. But between Matt’s desire to sell the tickets to someone who will appreciate them (not to mention, again, his desperate need for money), and Shawn’s persistence and shared love of the Cavs, it’s not long before the men find themselves making a deal. It’s a deal that leads to a friendship that spans the next 12 years, which we check in on at different major milestones in James’ career.
Despite its title and set up, King James is not about basketball (so no, no basketball knowledge is required going in). But it does use the sport to pose an interesting question: Is male friendship so tenuous (dare I say fragile) that the actions of a completely unrelated basketball player can threaten its very existence? For Joseph, the answer appears to be a resounding yes, and it’s not because basketball is so special. It’s because of the way men can and cannot communicate. For Matt and Shawn, their strongest feelings get conflated with the moves James makes, everything getting filtered through the prism of Lebron James and the Cavs – they’re friends “because of” the tickets; to Matt, Shawn leaving for New York is akin to Lebron leaving small-market Cleveland for Miami; etc.
Through this, Joseph has crafted a tight, incisive look at a friendship that is both incredibly familiar and revealing, with part of its beauty being in the revelations that emerge in everyday conversations, masterfully brought to life actors Antonio Lasanta and Blake Weir. King James is a two-hander – deftly directed as one act with four quarters scenes by Philip Kershaw – and it’s a pleasure to watch the dynamic between Lasanta and Weir grow as the play progresses, their rapport going from stilted and awkward strangers to the comfortable camaraderie of good friends. But for Matt and Shawn, theirs is a mixed-race friendship, and we know it’s only a matter of time before someone (Matt) finally steps on a of landmine. It’s briefly teased when Matt makes an assumption that’s got Shawn asking Matt if he looks poor in 2003, and finally explodes when Matt says that James “lacks class” and doesn’t “know his place” later.
The show is relatively short, clocking in somewhere under 90 minutes, and it really seems that Joseph makes a point of saying what he needs and then getting out as quickly as possible. Though it’s done well, it leaves Lasanta and Weir with the task of quickly and believably navigating from playful and hopeful to uncomfortable and resentful in record time, which they do beautifully.
Speaking of beautiful, the show opens on a Stefan Azizi-designed set, cleverly lit by Coda Pariselli. It is every bit the neighborhood bar. Sturdy wood and red fairy lights grace the rotating, can’t-wait-to-see-the-other-side set. (And the little curio shop on the other side doesn’t disappoint at all.) Azizi and sound designer Robert Leslie Meek work together to establish and move time forward. There’s the Walkman giving way to earbuds, and a Motorola Razr turning to smart phones that are practically glued to the characters’ hands; while into the theater, Meek pipes in audio of key moments – the announcement of Lebron James as the first pick of the 2003 NBA draft, his infamous decision to take his talents to South Beach – as well as music, such as DJ Khaled’s “All I Do Is Win” to lead into 2010 and an excellently executed use of Chingy’s “Right Thurr” in 2003. Leah Smith’s on-point costumes round out the production’s design, with particular credit going to the store uniforms.
Success may swing like a pendulum between Matt and Shawn in King James, but Rec Room’s production is nothing but successful. In the space of four little slices of life, every aspect of the production serves to mount a show fit for a (basketball) king.
Performances of King James will continue at 7:30 p.m. Wednesdays through Saturdays through March 16 at Rec Room, 100 Jackson. For more information, visit recroomarts.org. $5-$40.
This article appears in Jan 1 – Dec 31, 2024.
