Written and directed at Oberlin College by Cleveland's own Kari Barclay, Stonewallin’ brilliantly weaves a tale of intersectional and intergenerational ideas of race and queerness in rural America. Kari asks audiences, what does it mean to call a place and a people ‘home’? How do we confront the complexities our familial roots, living and dead, as intertwined with our chosen families and identities? Can we cast a spell against white supremacy and against cisgender and heterosexual norms? This show dazzled audiences fortunate enough to take in its short run and presented a heartwarming take on some very salient issues of our time. I hope to see it have more time on additional stages soon.

Tommy, played by Rowan Kozinets, Oberlin class of ’26, had a -- wait. '26? If my math is correct, which I assure you it rarely is, this human is a first year student? So, 18, 19 years old? WOW. Okay, let me like-share-subscribe so I can keep seeing what they get up to in their theatre career, if this is what they are capable of at such a young age.

Rowan portrayed Tommy with an endearing, contagious affect I have only seen in a few other humans - ironically or perhaps appropriately, one of them being our playwright and director, Kari. It is difficult to describe. Perhaps I can say it is impossibly kind and comfortable. Perhaps I can say they always look like they are about to laugh, but never at your expense. Perhaps I can say that they are always smiling, even when they're not, and their smile is equal parts innocent and mischievous, and when they're smiling, which they somehow always are, their entire face is doing the smiling. It's an incredibly beautiful quality. I caught myself grinning throughout the show, partially because it was chock full of clever humor, and partially because this actor just elicited that response.

Tommy is well-meaning to a fault, and interested in connection and kindness. Their unbridled joy in the moments when they are connecting with Marsha makes you root for them. Rowan's voice was tender and lovely for Tommy's serenade to Brooke while in Dolly Parton drag. As Tommy, Rowan gave just the right amount of awkward that made you laugh with them and want to envelop them in a hug and tell them, 'you're doing great.'  Tommy has a disarming enthusiasm for life despite what we can assume have been some significant challenges as a ‘guy in a skirt.’

Marsha, played by Brooke Lynlee, has a kind of confidence that Tommy did not, in herself and how she wants the world to see her, even after relocating to the South where she feels stifled. Brooke portrayed Marsha with a kind of self-knowledge I admire in women, and I liked this character immediately.

Tommy and Marsha reveal towards the end of the play their sexual and gender identities - queer and nonbinary (“not... really a guy”) for Tommy, and queer and homoromantic for Marsha. The audience spent most of the show wondering - will they? is she? is he, they? I liked this particular storytelling technique; for me, it reminded me that it’s okay not to know, and to let a person come out in their own time. The supporting characters help us wonder, reflecting our own thoughts - Elijah makes many comments about Tommy being 'gay' and a 'guy in a skirt' and Mamaw makes clear her fear that Tommy is gay. Tommy’s gender identity in this production was further compounded by the casting of Rowan as opposed to a more definitively male actor – but again, I was reminded that one’s gender is defined by them, not by my perceptions of them.

Throughout the show, both characters work through the ongoing trauma and confusion of being queer in America. While Tommy certainly presents more clearly as queer and likely has endured questions and harassment as a result, Marsha presents an important view of intersectionality – not only queer, but a woman, AND Black, AND all of these identities in the American South. While Tommy has, and knows they have, the privilege of choosing to ‘pass,’ Marsha would never be able to, and she knows this. Alternatively, Marsha has the privilege of choosing to pass as straight, where Tommy does not if they are living their true self. There were marked differences in their coming out narratives, too – Tommy consistently battles against Mamaw’s denial of their queerness, as she notes that they ‘just like earrings' and rejoices to find Tommy is dating and intimate with a woman.  Alternatively, Marsha bravely came out to her grandfather and appeared to experience rejection from this decision.

Tommy and Marsha’s chemistry is palpable. In the grocery store, the audience couldn’t help but grin as they performed their sweet dance around their common interest in one another. In the first coffee shop scene, Tommy hands Marsha a latte with a heart drawn into the foam, but Marsha sees it as a penis – a clever foreshadowing that would return towards the end of the show. The birding scene is such a unique performance of staged intimacy – a clever lean by Tommy that spoke to me as foreplay and a quirky bird-like mating dance performed by Rowan and Brooke. I can't know whether this performance of intimacy was written into the script as a bird mating dance or whether this was a clever imagining of Kari’s. Neither would surprise me as I am familiar with Kari’s intimacy work. The scene was an excellent representation of how a sex scene doesn’t need to involve sex in order to get the point across.

Marsha drops some important knowledge in that scene – Africans invented birding! I couldn’t help but think back to the viral May 2020 altercation in Central Park, in which a Black man was birding and asked a white woman to leash her dog, leading to an altercation and police involvement when the woman falsely presented herself as being in physical danger. I feel an additional weight to that situation knowing, whether the involved parties did or not, that he was in fact honoring an ancestral tradition when the altercation occurred. 

Elijah, Marsha’s brother, played by Tony Singfield, is an interesting enigma. A seemingly self-realized Black man participating in Confederate war reenactment? However, his explanation that he participates to put himself in front of “people who think the war isn’t over,” and essentially to try to create change from within, resonated with me. Tony portrayed Elijah as gentle and refined with an unconventional wisdom, except when it came to queerness. I was disappointed in his continued disparaging remarks toward Tommy as a member of an historically marginalized group himself, though this can be unfortunately common.

Olivia Bross had the audience doubled over laughing in her portrayal of “Southern Patriot” Maragaret or Mamaw, Tommy’s grandmother. Her bold choice to walk like she’d just gotten off a camel never got old, nor did her seating choice of comically ‘manspreading’ legs. Olivia is an expert of physical comedy and I hope to see her in a similar character on a future stage. Mamaw had a slew of great one-liners that had the audience awaiting more, but also some important insights into rural America that we miss when we exist in our urban echo chambers. Remarks like “we used to have a community” and “liberals don’t say hello on the sidewalk” speak to the preservation of values that bear such importance for conservatives, while her casual racism and overt homophobia remind us of the importance of value progression.

Stonewall, Tommy’s great-great-GREAT-grandfather and Civil War icon Thomas Jackson, came to life after what must have felt like an eternity standing still with a great display of lighting and a gorgeously placed breath – I love well-utilized breathwork on stage. Ana Morgan was awesome in this role. Their dialect and affect were impeccable – not only a Southern accent but a distinct old-timey way of speaking that communicated a soft and wise, though misguided, personality. I loved the casting of a woman in this role – a choice that would certainly have the real Stonewall Jackson rolling in his grave. Ana played Stonewall as multidimensional, and we even felt compassion for him as he worked through his own trauma during the PTSD flashback that was expertly portrayed with lighting and sound effects. An exasperated Stonewall, hoping for humanity, remarks, “I’m not a hero – I’m a human being,” a commentary on our battle to bring down or keep up problematic statues.  

The costuming for this show was especially enjoyable. Mamaw absolutely dressed the way an older, working-class Southern woman would. The Halloween costumes for Tommy and Marsha were both incredible. And the tremendous joke of Stonewall having to wear Tommy’s clothes and being given a delightfully queer t-shirt landed well with the audience. The set design was also excellent. I loved the lighting coming up from the short columns around the stage, Stonewall’s monument, and the coffee bar especially. The lighting was so effective in creating the world, and I loved the subtle effect of the floor design and suspended sheets adorned with mountain ranges, giving an effective rural feel. The music between scenes was engaging and provocative.

Stonewallin’ is, in its essence, about belonging - within a place, within one another, and within ourselves. And especially, within the theatre: this is a show where those who don’t often see themselves represented on stage, will. Well done, Kari and cast and crew.

Potentially unpopular opinion - I'm a little sick of dystopian stories. Like, okay, the world might end while I'm alive to see it, whatever, I already have my exit plan in place (take a ton of edibles and curl into the fetal position and go out vibin', baby. Enjoy that fat I've been storing up, zombies.). I'm also an annoying sci-fi nay-sayer - I've famously never seen any Star Wars or Star Trek and love messing with super fans of one or both by pretending to confuse them (that's right, friends - I do know that Captain Kirk is not Han Solo's father.)

So when I saw one of my favorite theatres in town was doing something "dystopian" and "science fiction," I wasn't all that interested. But I went to see "After the Blast" at convergence-continuum this spring for a few reasons.

1. I am lucky to know and care about every single person involved in this production.
2. I am also lucky to call con-con one of my local theatrical homes and am ever happy to support them.
3. con-con has a tendency to surprise me and I was willing to let them, again.

I am devastated to tell you, dear readers (aka, just my mom, hey Mom!) that I absolutely adored this dystopian, sci-fi thing of beauty con-con has put together. con-con is a theatre I love for many reasons, one of which being their penchant for producing theatre that pushes boundaries and takes risks. This is usually a good thing for me, but, being the insufferable anti-sci-fi jerk I am, I wondered if this would make for a sci-fi production that was... a LOT. As in, too much. I was wrong. "After the Blast" was just right.

con-con's production of "After the Blast" as directed by Eva Nel Brettrager was simply resonant - that is, deep, clear, and continuing to ring in my soul as a wholly captivating and beautiful envisioning of the complexities of the ghastly future we are undoubtedly creating for ourselves. 

Cory Molner and Scott Zolkowsi's set for this show, representing the subterranean bunker where "the best and brightest" of humanity move once earth becomes unlivable, was gorgeous. The lighting columns set in the walls, the sliding doors that chimed, the simple built in shelves, and even the well-done wall seams offered an atmosphere that was simple and bleak but somehow lovely. In addition to the lighting columns, the only other pops of color other than light were some succulents, some table flowers, and a couple of knick-knacks. These scarce pops of color juxtaposed well with the grey set and intentionally unremarkable beige and grey costume pieces selected by Amanda Rowe-Van Allen. Kate Smith's props were slim and effective with one exception - we'll get to him later. con-con's trend of show-appropriate pre-show speeches rife with bits of humor was heightened by the robotic affect for this show, voiced by Kate Smith. Neil Sudhakaran's projections and sounds were effective, especially during the  above-world memories of Margarita, and I appreciated Rob Wachala's lighting effects in creating color and warmth in this world of pristine and bleakness. JC Cifranic was, as always, a precise and holistic stage manager, head on a swivel and the glue holding all of the elements together. It always feels clear when they are managing a production. Another thing always clear? When Eva Nel Brettrager is directing. From first-hand experience being directed by them, I can tell you they are sharp and collaborative, creative and careful. This combination shone through in this production.

It's time. It's time to talk about mad scientist Kate Smith's creation - the robot. I wasn't sure what to expect. Would it be a human in a robot costume? An R2-D2 style trash can on a remote control car to transport it around the stage? (I had to Google that to make sure I meant R2-D2 and not C-3PO. Did you know there's another cute little guy called BB-8?) I was half right - The Helper, aka Arthur, aka Artie, aka Mija did resemble R2-D2, but also had mammal-like features - teddy bear ears and big eyes. Interesting choice, I thought. I soon came to find it was exactly what the script called for, with references to the robot being named Artie after R2-D2, being like a dog to train and lead visually impaired children in simple tasks. The combination of creatures was effective and I came to truly care for Artie as the show progressed - until I didn't.

Alex Strzemilowski was the one cast member I didn't know well. I'm sure I appreciated his initial scene as Sam, but I'm not here to talk about that. Alex bravely donned the grey skin suit most of the show to operate the robot puppet "Artie" (and, later, "Mija"). My first thought, honestly, was that I would find it distracting. However, less than halfway to intermission, I completely forgot Alex was even on stage. Alex's movements were so precise and in tune with the robot, that even as I tried to focus on Alex's work, I forgot again and again that he was operating it. When I did remember to watch him, it mostly made my 35 year old knees hurt to watch his effortless crouch-walk around stage. It was actually annoying how good he was at all of it. And, in fact, the choice to put Alex in the grey skin suit was effective in a surprising way - Alex's lack of human face made for somewhat of a creepy 'uncanny valley' effect that created a sudden discomfort upon noticing and re-noticing Alex, perhaps foreshadowing Anna's stomach-dropping realization later in the show.

As the show went on, Alex's puppetry was perfectly in sync with the off-stage vocalizations of Artie, so much so that when I leaned back so I couldn't see Alex at all, it was wholly believable that the puppet was moving on its own as it spoke. Speaking of the robot vocalization - kudos to Michael Montanus for his choices in representing Artie's voice. He and Alex worked in sync to make the robot puppetry believable, and Michael's overly formal and staccato enunciation helped remind us that Artie was indeed inhuman. Michael's rapid fire toddler-like questions and deafening volume when preparing Anna for her mental health exam provided some great comic relief. Michael had a good demeanor as Lowes - detached but still with some compassion for Anna's devastation, demonstrating a comforting humanity. 

Cat Kenney pleasantly surprised me with her Spanish speaking abilities - as a proficient Spanish speaker myself, I was interested to see how this scene would work not having found a native Spanish speaker to cast. Cat clearly did a lot of work for this one scene, where her Margarita gave us a sweet look into one of the OG undergrounders who remembers the world as it once was. Cat played the older Margarita convincingly. 

Katherine Nash and Mike Frye played charming supporting roles as Patrick and Carrie, good friends of Anna and Oliver and an effective juxtaposition of their strained marriage, fertility, and Anna's mental health. Their lives seemed to be the ideal of a couple underground - easygoing, willing to adapt, seemingly in love. I always enjoy Mike Frye's unique take on his characters, and appreciated his best friend and brother to Oliver and husband to Carrie - a worthy adversary in cleverness to both. I was delighted to see Katherine in her roles. She portrayed Carrie with an endearing wonder and an unquestioning acceptance of her world, and later on with a fierce protectiveness of her child. She joined Michael Montanus with effective comedic timing and excellent robotic vocal choices, this time as Mija, the reprogrammed robot Artie.

Patrick Warner beautifully portrayed the difficulty Oliver faced underground - wanting to fulfill his accepted purpose of making the world re-inhabitable for the next generation to survive, and wanting to support and help his wife struggling to do the same. I loved Patrick's emotional range throughout the show as he moved through Oliver's experience of taking a huge risk to help his wife find purpose - especially the scene where he listened to her tell Artie that she did not feel fulfilled by her husband. His excitement showing Anna the "Helper" video was adorable and contagious. And I loved his tentative chemistry with Carolyn in their portrayal of a couple who love one another but who don't fully understand one another. Patrick has such an old soul that shows through in his onstage persona - a world-weary wisdom that makes one curious about him. I have seen Patrick's scene work and performance of his original poetry, but this was my first time seeing him in a fully realized role, and at only 26 years old, I am thrilled to see the roles he will continue to take.

Carolyn Demanelis accomplished something in her creation of Anna that can be tricky - to depict a person with mental illness on stage in a way that is compassionate and dimensional, that respects people with mental illness off stage. From the start I empathized with Anna's difficulty to accept the world she had been given - an artist and admirer of beauty at heart, granted only sims designed by 'the artists of our time' - an interesting line to hear in this age of debate over AI-generated 'art.' I understood Anna's resistance to escaping - either into sims or through anti-depressants. I felt with Anna's hope and heartbreak at her journey above ground and her need for purpose. And then! After initial hesitation of the new being in her home, Anna's sudden affection for the dog-like Artie felt so real. Her motherlike patience for Artie's questions was lovely. I loved Carolyn's freeness singing and dancing around with Artie, her grin and inaudible 'thank you' every time he fetched the ball. My heart broke as I watched Carolyn's face fall when Artie innocently asked, "why were you made if you do not have a purpose?" - a question many with clinical depression have posed in dark times. Anna's explanation of her depression and suicidal ideation - "my purpose became not to kill myself" - was heart wrenching. When she explained her desire for a child as, "so that when we die, some piece of us remains," I felt my heart twist again - a thought on which I've certainly ruminated. And my heart - which really got a work out in this show - sank at the devastating and loaded realization Carolyn came to in the scene with Margarita and Mija. Apologies to the patrons near me - I believe I let out an audible noise of a deflating balloon as tears sprung to my eyes. Carolyn really made me feel what Anna felt, as a woman who also questions the ethics of bringing a child into this world, for whom mental health has not been simple, for whom purpose sometimes feels elusive. Carolyn's quick snap to slicing anger with its undercurrent of fear, to her tender sadness with Carrie's child, to her intense pain toward Patrick's Oliver, provided the rollercoaster of emotions Anna felt at the end of the show. Thank you, Carolyn, for your responsible and kind portrayal of all of the resonant parts of Anna this show called for.

I imagine our future may be not so dissimilar to the world cleverly created by Eva Nel Brettrager and the cast and crew of "After the Blast" at con-con. The best and brightest chosen to carry us forward, be it underground, on the moon, or elsewhere - and those not chosen left to survive however they can (may I again suggest the edibles and vibe method?). Brilliantly designed sims - those who embrace them and those who resist them. And, to my delight, some of the themes are additionally so reminiscent of our world now. Survival - not only physical, but emotional. Memories of a world before - real, or simulated - that bring us sadness and possibility. A "singles compound in the middle of nowhere" - lol.  Love, even when it feels impossible. Love, and making choices out of love that sometimes turn out to be the wrong ones. Mental illness that can't be simmed away. Finding purpose and love in unexpected places - and experiencing betrayal and heartbreak just as we do up above. 

There are three more chances to see "After the Blast" at convergence-continuum - April 20, 21, and 22. Seating is limited in their intimate black box space - reserve tickets at www.convergence-continuum.org/.