I brought a 60-year-old non-theatergoer to see The Brothers Size. Afterward, he admitted he'd been skeptical at first—the pile of tires on the stage, the three men dancing in a slow and ritualized way across the stage, singing and delivering abstract monologues. (The characters are loosely based on Yoruba archetypes, and the play has a dreamworld component.) But by the end, he said his mind had been totally absorbed in this story set in the American bayou. One man (feckless, feisty) is just out of jail; another (stony, responsible) has been running an auto shop. Then there's a friend who's a lithe twist of trouble. The tension among the three—played by equally talented actors—is spellbinding in ways both terrestrial and cosmic. (Seattle Repertory Theatre, 155 Mercer St, 443-2222, 2 pm, $12–$55)