Topdog/Underdog: Scene Three Summary & Analysis

Once again, Booth’s confident swagger when it comes to his romantic relationship with Grace seems somewhat disingenuous, especially since his statement that she “wiped her hand over her childhood” is so blatantly hyperbolic. Only Booth—a man obsessed with being seen as a desirable alpha-male—would be so dramatic as to erase parts of history that don’t play in his favor. It’s clear in this moment that it’s he who wants to “wipe” all Grace’s former lovers from his mind, thereby destroying any competition and gaining a masculine sense of possession over his lover. In this moment, Booth conflates romance with ownership, revealing his desire to be a dominant, controlling man uninfluenced by the past.

Both Booth and Lincoln’s misogyny and chauvinist ideals surface in their conversation about sexual conquests. To them, convincing a woman to forgo contraception during intercourse is a defining element of what they think of as good sex. There’s a certain power Booth seems to derive from (supposedly) talking Grace out of using a condom, a sense of autonomy and control that reinforces his idea of himself as a desirable alpha-male. And if he does need to use a condom—as he claims he’ll have to do the next time he has sex with Grace—he goes out of his way to make sure his brother knows he’ll use a Magnum, a condom meant for men with large penises. What becomes painfully obvious in this moment (especially when Booth scrambles to assure Lincoln that he too must use Magnums) is that Booth’s conception of sexuality is inextricably wrapped up in stereotypical ideas about manhood, masculine dominance, control, and power.

When Parks indicates that Booth “fiddles with the condoms, perhaps trying to put one on,” she pokes fun of the fact that he’s clearly more inexperienced than he lets on. Indeed, only somebody who hasn’t been in many sexual situations would experiment with and practice putting on a condom. It’s evident, then, that sex is very much still on Booth’s mind, an indication that he has most likely not spent the night making love to Grace, as he claims. As such, Parks insinuates that Booth is overcompensating for a lack of experience by bragging to his brother about his sexual conquests.

When Lincoln admits that he found Booth’s stash of pornography—and that the magazines are covered in Booth’s semen—any suspicions the audience might have already had about Booth and Grace’s relationship are confirmed. Contrary to his previous claims, it’s obvious that Booth isn’t receiving sexual or romantic attention from Grace. Furthermore, it’s worth noting that Lincoln levels this accusation at his brother only after Booth breaks his promise to help him with his arcade routine. In response, Lincoln purposefully emasculates his brother, undermining Booth’s image of himself as a desirable and sexually well-versed man. In this way, sexual conquest (or the lack thereof) factors into the ways in which the brothers compete with one another. 

For Booth, a lack of “sexual release” leads to violence and aggression, further supporting the idea that sexual conquest defines his sense of what it means to be an alpha-male. In this statement he also inadvertently confirms that he has, in fact, been lying about his relationship with Grace—if he were truly having sex with her, he wouldn’t need to “take care of [himself].” And once again, these fraught ideas about sexuality and male dominance work their way into Booth and Lincoln’s brotherly relationship, as Booth responds to Lincoln’s emasculating remarks by reminding his brother that Cookie “came crawling to [him]” because “she needed a man,” an insult implying that Booth is more masculine than Lincoln.

That Lincoln offers to help his brother play Three-Card Monte seems out of step with the nature of their most recent conversation, in which Booth gravely insulted Lincoln. However, this tonal shift is simply part of their relationship as brothers—they fight often, but they’re also able to quickly shift gears, which illustrates that their relational dynamic encompasses both competition and affection. At the same time, though, it’s also worth noting that Lincoln has heretofore been more or less against the idea of Booth becoming a hustler. Having experienced the hardships of this lifestyle himself, he seemed weary of letting his younger brother start throwing cards. Now, though, he encourages the idea, so although the tonal shift in the brothers’ conversation can certainly be attributed to the complicated nature of their relationship, a cynical interpretation of Lincoln’s newfound encouragement might suggest that he no longer wishes to protect his brother from a dangerous lifestyle, instead responding to Booth’s venomous words by emboldening him to go forth and bring upon his own demise.

Once again, Booth can’t resist the opportunity to emasculate his brother, this time unnecessarily insulting him by reminding him that he “shoot[s] blanks.” Fortunately enough, Lincoln’s able to stand these petty insults, and it’s Booth who reveals himself as deeply insecure. Indeed, when he asks Lincoln if he’s ever afraid of being shot in earnest at the arcade, Booth provides insight into his own insecurity as person who can’t imagine ever turning his back to strangers and allowing them to shoot him, even if it’s all make-believe. Even the mere idea of miming getting shot threatens his dominant ego, whereas Lincoln doesn’t try to control “the actions of miscellaneous strangers” because he doesn’t mind allowing himself to be vulnerable in front of other people.

What Lincoln describes in this moment is the feeling of giving oneself over completely to vulnerability. When the gun is against his skin, he allows the customer to feel powerful and dominant. Whereas this would unnerve Booth, who is obsessed with power, Lincoln is content to simply watch the customer’s reflection in the dented fuse box. The imagery of this is significant, as each reflection appears upside-down, as if Lincoln gains an alternate perspective of the world by placing himself in a position of vulnerability. Opening himself up to other people and their dormant aggressions—their taste for blood, however imaginary it is—he sees the world anew, suddenly able to see things from fresh angles. His brother, on the other hand, has a pigeon-holed perception of the world because he’s narrowly focused on trying to be dominant and powerful. This mentality—and the ways in which it influences Booth’s relationship with deception—is important to keep in mind as the play progresses.

Lincoln’s assertion that “people like they historical shit in a certain way” speaks to Booth’s unwillingness to fully examine his own past. Similar to how Lincoln’s customers want to “neatly” “fold” history away, situating it in their minds so that it’s innocuous and manageable, Booth wants to “wipe” away the unfavorable things of his past. The difference, of course, is that Lincoln’s customers don’t try to ignore history altogether—instead, they willingly interact with it, reenacting Abraham Lincoln’s assassination in a manner that perhaps helps them conceptualize such a brutal and historically charged act. Booth, on the other hand, wants nothing to do with history, thus trying to live in a timeless present—an obviously unachievable endeavor. 

Any desire Lincoln may have had to teach Booth Three-Card Monte seemingly dissipates in this moment, when he rolls over and refuses to show Booth his moves. No doubt disappointed by his brother’s sudden disinterest, Booth reaches for his pornography stash, an action that once again highlights the ways in which he turns to “sexual release” in moments of let-down and frustration.