There must be something especially weird about producing a follow-up effort when you weren’t the one who debuted. Especially when that debut was the smash multi-platform dramedy juggernaut ’da Kink in My Hair, produced by one of Canada’s leading independent entertainment brands, Trey Anthony. Success caught ’da Kink by surprise; Secrets of a Black Boy, written by Anthony’s younger brother Darren, has a lot to live up to when it gets its main-stage debut Sept. 25.

“There’s a lot of people in my ear saying, ‘You should be doing this. You should be doing that. What about your sister? Are you even ready for this?’” says Darren Anthony. “But, in the end, I’m just going to put it out there and it is what it is.”

The story of five black men who come together in a “heightened situation” — the cast takes the “secrets” part of the title so seriously it’s hard to get even a sketch of the plot from them — Secrets of a Black Boy has been billed as a response to ’da Kink. Like its predecessor, there are monologues and personal revelations around topics that are taboo in Toronto’s Afro-Caribbean communities, including abuse, commitment phobia, sexuality and interracial dating. But with its edgier Regent Park setting, in-your-face soundtrack and gun-toting machismo, Secrets may not be what Torontonians are expecting from the House of Anthony. It’s more of a Glengarry Glen Ross to ’da Kink’s Steel Magnolias. While the project is presided over by a high priestess of female empowerment, Darren’s vision is about brothers doing it for themselves, even if it’s violent and fucked up.

“It’s guys talking and it may get women’s backs up,” says director Kimahli Powell. “In a workshop we did… one of the women was like, ‘You bring up stereotypes and there’s this misogynist tone but you don’t necessarily address this to say it’s wrong.’ Well, that’s not our job. Our job is to put it out there so you can discuss it afterwards.” Powell, called in to add some movement to a 2007 workshop production of Secrets, ended up directing what was a 30-page script. Since then, the disconnected monologues have been linked by a plot and, Powell says, Anthony has grown as a writer, digging deeper into the characters, who are based on his friends. Anthony’s world has also grown up around him. He originally wrote the part of Biscuit, a street-smart Regent Park native who also gets most of the play’s laughs, for his friend Shomari Downer. That part is now played by a younger actor, Samson Brown, while Downer has moved on to the role of Sean, who is more of a working Joe.

“When Samson is rehearsing the character, I still see Shomari mime the lines,” says Powell.

“It’s a part of me, definitely,” says Downer. “Those were issues I was dealing with at some part in my life. I was trying to shake that and do the right thing. I was also being typecast for a while as the thug, the gangster, killer character. I know I’m more than that now.”

Anthony admits he feels the pressure of filling a 1,000-seat theatre. On the play’s blog (www.secretsofablackboy.com), he posted a letter to “Success,” declaring, “I don’t know much about you but I’m writing to tell you I’m looking forward to meeting you.... I’ve seen guys have you and use you for the wrong reasons. I’ve seen guys do amazing things with you and I’ve also seen how cold you can be, how unsure you can be.” For all his desire to live up to expectations, he’s not exactly sure what his next move will be. He suggests he’d like to go into film or TV (which is what Trey has done, too).

“You’re going to change the face of theatre and then abandon it?” snaps Powell.

“I’m not sure yet. I’m just taking it day by day and seeing what happens.”