Weekly Margin 2026, W13: The Unknown, Trash

3/25/26: The Unknown

What: Studio Seaview presents David Cale's new one-man show starring Sean Hayes, about playwright Elliott struggling with writer's block who finds himself the object of fixation by an actor rejected from the casting of his last play. As the details surrounding this actor become more convoluted, Elliott finds himself equally fixated on his stalker.

And? David Cale is truly adept at writing a showcase monologue (he also wrote the wonderful Harry Clarke, played with seedy charm by Billy Crudup), and this one showcases Sean Hayes very well. Deliberately murky while luring the audience further into the mire with every twist, Cale's play is excellently set off by the subtle but chilling design work of director Leigh Silverman's team. Under Cha See's stark, tight lighting, set pieces by Studio Bent appear and disappear as if conjured from Elliott's imagination. Elliott's hand drifts into shadow and reemerges holding a glass of whiskey. What was the brick backwall of the space now has a looming apartment door. And Caroline Eng's sound design, chilling and subtle, delicately cinches the audience in closer to Elliott's increasingly fractured sense of reality. Is he imagining Joey? Is Joey imagining him? What is true and what is hallucination and what is just hopeful dreaming? Though the play deliberately leaves the ending ambiguous as to whose story we've been watching, it's enough to hear the audience slowly filing out, eagerly debating what the truth could be.

Sean Hayes. Photo by Emilio Madrid.

3/27/26: Trash

What: Perelman Performing Arts Center hosts Out of the Box Theatrics's new play by and starring James Caverly and Andrew Morrill. Two Deaf roommates, at odds with each other and with the hearing world, argue over whose responsibility it is to take out the trash, as well as unpacking the reasons for why things have become such a mess: the trash of their own lives and baggage, and the literal stinking trash can in the kitchen.

And? The storytelling conceits here are fascinating. I was talking to a friend about the challenge of presenting Deaf theater to a largely hearing audience: the need to always accommodate the hearing audience, all the while mainstream theater often offering very limited means of accommodating a Deaf audience. This, then, is reclaiming the narrative by nature of who is telling it: a play written by and starring two Deaf men, and presented by Out of the Box, whose mission is to center stories about marginalized identities, with a focus on people with disabilities. At the performance I attended, at least half of the audience was either Deaf or fluent in ASL. And a huge chunk of the play is communicated only in ASL or the occasional handwritten message on a dry erase board.  I could say that this means I am not the primary audience, and I'm probably not; but the truth is, while I don't always grasp the nuance of a particular moment in the way the Deaf audience members do, I am still able to follow the characters' conflicts and emotional journeys. And then there's the slightly fantastical device: a jukebox rescued from an arcade. While outsiders observe that it's odd for two Deaf men to keep blasting music, for the audience, every dollar fed to the jukebox (here embodied by Chris Ogren in a smart black suit) awakens an English-speaking interpreter for the characters signing onstage. For the hearing audience, we are temporarily admitted into the conversation. For the Deaf audience, not much has changed. The show isn't for me, but it is letting me visit. In this way, it's a very generous invitation to the hearing world into what is often a very isolated community, as Deaf people are largely excluded from a mainstream society unwilling or unable to learn their language. One of the questions of the play is if it's worth the bigger lift on the part of ostracized Deaf to try to assimilate as much as possible into an audist world, or if it's better to live where they won't be treated as children or second-class citizens, as people not worth hearing. That's the macro. The micro is how Tim and Jake can bridge their own communication divide, as well as trying to wrangle a lifetime of baggage weighing them down.

Andrew Morrill as Tim, James Caverly as Jake, and Chris
Ogren as Jukebox. Photo by Rebecca J. Michelson.

Weekly Margin 2026, W12: Monte Cristo, Our House, My Joy is Heavy, The Wild Party

3/18/26: Monte Cristo

What: The York Theatre presents a new musical adaptation of the Alexandre Dumas classic novel about revenge and love.

And? full review here.

Norm Lewis as Villefort. Photo by Shawn Salley.

3/19/26: Our House

What: The Other Side of Silence presents Barry Boehm's new play, about elder queer couple Andy and Stanley hosting their nephew Brendan and his fiancé Gene for their upcoming wedding. When smalltown bigotries of racism and homophobia rear their ugly heads, old griefs and new pains are exposed.

And? This play is very difficult to watch, not because of its quality but because of its content. Though Andy and Stanley survived the worst of the AIDS crisis, with Andy a vocal and passionate fighter with ACT UP, they've settled into the family home in a rather small town with no queer community to speak of. And while they're frustrated by the harassment of local young men pelting their yard with walnuts, the underlying awareness of the danger facing Gene, a Black gay man, is felt not just by the audience but by the family onstage. And we all hate that we're right. So it's a difficult play to watch. But it's worth watching. Christopher Borg is particularly affecting as Andy, a mix of loving joy and fiercely bitter anger and heartbreak at what he and his community have lived through, and continue to live through. His final moments, a grief and reconciliation with his husband Stanley is well-earned. Also quite powerful is Jalen Ford as Eugene: quiet and sweet, but carrying an additional burden none of the others in his almost-family can seem to understand. Ford's performance is understated and honest and lived in, which makes it all the more horrible when he's attacked. Scenic designer Evan Frank builds a lovely backyard space for the action, with a fence strung with festive lights. It's notable that this feels more real than the back facade of the house, particularly with its importance to the family: a skeletal structure, with only half its siding covering the inside. But then, what we see is that perhaps a house isn't enough protection from the outside hostility, when the walls aren't as solid as we think.

Christopher Borg as Andy, Nancy Slusser as Paula, CJ DiOrio
as Brendan, and Jalen Ford as Eugene. Photo by Mikiodo.

Margin Notes: Monte Cristo

Monte Cristo

Seen on: Wednesday, 3/18/26.

Adam Jacobs as Edmund and Sierra Boggess
as Mercedes. Photo by Shawn Salley.

Plot and Background

The York Theatre presents the world premiere of Peter Kellogg and Stephen Weiner's new musical adaptation of the classic Alexandre Dumas novel The Count of Monte Cristo. Edmund, an honest sailor, is framed for treason on the eve of his wedding, and sent to prison for eighteen years. His fiancée Mercedes, believing him dead, marries his rival Fernand to cover her pregnancy. While in prison, Edmund is educated by fellow prisoner Abbe in languages, arts, and swordcraft, as well as the location of a hidden fortune; when he escapes, he uncovers the treasure on Monte Cristo, then uses his newfound wealth and knowledge to build his new persona as the mysterious titular count, and wreak revenge on the three men who wronged him.

Thoughts:

Originally released in serialized form before its publication as a novel, The Count of Monte Cristo is a complex web of treachery, revenge, and a twisted quest for justice, stuffed with a large cast of characters tracing morally ambiguous journeys. A two hours and change musical can't manage all that and still be coherent. Peter Kellogg and Stephen Weiner's musical adaptation seeks coherency by condensing and combining a number of auxiliary characters while cleaning up some of their acts: Edmund's allies, though played for laughs, stand on the side of right without treachery. Edmund doesn't teach someone how to poison her family. He also doesn't help rescue a number of past allies from financial ruin, but there's a lot going on in the novel, and it's better to narrow things down to the core parts of his arc. This is the correct move, but unfortunately in execution the reader's digest version of events, while following story beats, fails to thrill beyond what now seem like a very pedestrian narrative. Sweeney Todd this is not. (They also, incidentally, change the ending of the story, but they're not the first adaptation to make this change.)

That doesn't mean they're not trying. Stephen Weiner's score aspires toward the lushness of a tortured romance, but struggles to balance that against the more traditional sidekick character numbers, which indulge in an earthier old-fashioned musical comedy style. I think that tension might be the real struggle within the show at the moment: whether or not this is an old-fashioned musical comedy with a soupçon of camp, or a sweeping and ballad-full romantic musical drama, a la other pop musical writers like Webber and Wildhorn (incidentally, Wildhorn has also penned an adaptation of the novel, though it's played more internationally than domestically). If you go in expecting the latter, you'll be disappointed; however, if you go in open to the comic stylings, particularly of Danny Rutigliano, doing double duty as both Edmund's mentor (Abbe) and sidekick (Caderousse) and making a meal out of both, you might fare better. This is especially evident in Kellogg's lyrics. In the more romantic numbers, his lyrics tend toward a looser pop sensibility of songs that could be easily removed from context and played elsewhere; however, for the more comedic numbers, the lyrics must be specific to be funny, and are thus much more grounded in the circumstances of character and moment. 

Weekly Margin 2026, W10: Destination, Dust of Egypt

3/05/26: Destination

What: 4 Girls Film Productions in association with Jarrott Productions present George Ayres's new play. Howard Wright, a retired architect in an assisted living facility, facing only a year left of his life, embarks on a journey to declare his love for "the one that got away" after her engagement is published in the local newspaper. Meanwhile, his daughter wrestles with the what-ifs of her own lost love amidst a struggling marriage.

And? full review here.

3/06/26: Dust of Egypt

What: The Real Artists LLC presents Karin Abarbanel's new play about legendary activist Sojourner Truth. An adult Truth looks back on her youth, when she was newly emancipated from enslavement and fighting in court to rescue and liberate her son Peter, who was illegally sold across state lines from New York to Alabama.

And? full review here.

Margin Notes: Dust of Egypt

Dust of Egypt

Seen on: Friday, 3/06/26.

Jade Cayne as Bell. Photo by Rainer DeLalio.

Plot and Background

The Real Artists LLC presents Karin Abarbanel's new play about legendary activist Sojourner Truth. An adult Truth looks back on her youth, when she was newly emancipated from enslavement and fighting in court to rescue and liberate her son Peter, who was illegally sold across state lines from New York to Alabama.

Thoughts:

Over an empty stage, a man and a woman stand on mirrored balconies running the perimeter of the space, trilling a birdsong and waving their arms, gently flying. As this prologue, a gentle dream of escape and freedom, gives way, Sojourner Truth walks onstage. Bonneted and white shawled, she tells us the story, not of how she became renowned activist and speaker, but of how she accomplished another unusual task: she was one of the first Black woman to win a case against a white man of an enslaved person being sold illegally across state lines. She introduces her younger self, a woman named Bell (played by Jade Cayne with a sweet vulnerability that transforms over the course of the story into a spine of steel and a unswerving sense of self). What follows is a mix of narration by the elder Truth (a stentorian Desi Waters) that lends itself easily into crowd-speaking as she stands behind a podium), re-enactment of Bell's struggle, and that liminal space where Truth and Bell both wrestle with her betrayal of her son, a lingering question of whether forgiveness is ever possible.

Margin Notes: Destination

Destination

Seen on: Thursday, 3/05/26.

Plot and Background

4 Girls Film Productions in association with Jarrott Productions's four-day presentation of George Ayres's new play, as part of Chain Theatre's 2026 The Factory Series. Howard Wright, a retired architect in an assisted living facility, facing only a year left of his life, embarks on a journey to declare his love for "the one that got away" after her engagement is published in the local newspaper. Meanwhile, his daughter wrestles with the what-ifs of her own lost love amidst a struggling marriage.

Thoughts:

Play: Over the course of one day, Howard Wright learns that the woman who got away--a coworker with whom he was infatuated years ago, even while both of them were married--is getting remarried, and he resolves to drive out and offer himself to her instead. His daughter spends this same day meeting with her lover--another one who got away, her high school sweetheart--and finally confronting him about why they broke up so many years ago, only to return to her life just as her father does, a little more weathered but definitely wiser. The theme overall here is missed chances and second chances: can you reclaim what you've lost, or can you at least heal an old scar before moving on? Playwright George Ayres finds a variety of ways to explore this across his band of characters: Howard and his pining for Caroline (and the reveal of her reciprocal pining); Howard's neighbor Gigi and her pining for him; Howard's daughter Jennifer and her lover Robert, each reaching back to an uncapturable past; and Howard's longtime housekeeper Alma, advising from her own experience of letting her true love die without knowing she returned his love, warning Howard not to let his chance go by too. I do feel that the pacing and structure need some reworking: Howard's reunion with Caroline is touchingly bittersweet with a killer final line to the scene, but it's such a satisfying moment that it's almost jarring to realize there are still several scenes to go before everything wraps up, and the final moments of the play don't manage to land with the same satisfy beat of a journey completed.

Weekly Margin 2026, W9: Cold War Choir Practice, Marcel on the Train, Antigone (This Play I Read in High School), Hate Radio, Bug, The Other Place, Operation Mincemeat (Blizzard livestream)

2/25/26: Cold War Choir Practice

What: MCC, Clubbed Thumb, and Page 73 present Ro Reddick's play about Meek, a young Black girl in her local Cold War Choir (apparently this is a real thing), who gets caught up, along with her aunt, in intrigues involving the Soviet Union and a cult.

And? So there's a lot going on. It's a strange but interesting show with engaging performances, especially Alana Raquel Bowers's straightforward and sweet Meek, and Grace McLean's sly and purring Choir slash cult member. I don't quite know what to take away from the show, but it was a fun ride along the way.

Alana Raquel Bowers, center, as Meek, with Suzzy Roche,
Grace McLean, and Nina Ross as the Choir. Photo from the
Summerworks production by Maria Baranova.

2/26/26: Marcel on the Train

What: Ethan Slater co-writes (with director Marshall Pailet) and stars in bioplay about a young Marcel Marceau's role in the French Resistance during the German occupation of France during WW2, as he helped Jewish children escape Nazi capture.

And? It's really quite an extraordinary piece of history on its own, and one I hadn't heard. Scenic Designer Scott Davis evokes the train car in which Marcel escorts the four orphan children with a wooden platform and benches, and a curved metal scaffolding overhead to represent the train's roof. This is where we are for the whole show (with a few flashbacks and flashforwards): a place with no apparent escape but also no evident protection. The ceiling is an illusion, the walls invisible. Studio Luna's lighting design plays dramatically with light and shadow, creating a world where darkness is safer than the threat of light. Against this, director Marshall Pailet crafts a taut 100-minute production, with each raised voice a potential siren to bring on capture and execution, while also teetering over a future uncertain enough that--even knowing Marcel Marceau goes to become a world-renowned mime--survival does not feel guaranteed. And indeed, with the flashforwards we see that no one escapes this time unscathed or free from trauma. Are these flashforwards the truth, or only what the children hope for--what Marcel hopes for?

The four children we see Marcel ushering are fictionalized but each serves as an interesting foil to the twenty-year-old man (in addition to being fully realized characters on their own): Henri (the sweet and funny Alex Wyse), whose gift for blather and determination to survive inspires a self-doubting Marcel to keep moving forward with his mission; Adolphe (my favorite, Max Gordon Moore), a preteen with a strong sense of right and wrong, and a distaste for lying, who holds Marcel accountable for his responsibility to four vulnerable children; Etiennette (a mute but expressive Maddie Corman), terror-struck but drawn out of her shell by mirroring Marcel's playful impulses and clown work; and Berthe (the always wonderful Tedra Millan, here bringing a brittle brine to her performance), whose blend of pessimistic and realistic perspective force Marcel to extend himself beyond gentle play into action and decision. Aaron Serotsky, who plays Everyone Else, brings an especially terrifying energy to the Nazi search of the train car, delicately tip-toing along the line between a benevolent authority figure performing an unfortunate necessity, and a snake waiting patiently for his prey to stumble in biting range. As the titular Marcel, Slater beautifully embodies the charisma and showmanship, while also delving into the vulnerability of a young man only just out of his teens, risking not only his life but the lives of children unable to protect themselves.

Tedra Millan as Berthe and Max Gordon Moore as Adolphe.
Photo by Emilio Madrid.