RIDING AN EMOTIONAL TRAIN TO REDEMPTION
I once had a dear friend. Her name was Jan. She died young in her early fifties but while she was here, Jan was a wise and joyful presence. She'd been through stuff and, unlike me (who enjoyed a good wallow) Jan always managed to find the shiny nugget. She knew how to get through it all and was happy to share what she had learned without judgment.
I felt her again at the Varscona Theatre during Tiny Beautiful Things, a play rooted in a series of letters between an advice columnist and her many troubled readers. The one-act concludes Shadow Theatre's season and was adapted by Nia Vardalos (My Big Fat Greek Wedding) from Cheryl Strayed's book of the same title. You may remember Strayed from her blockbuster memoir and the subsequent movie, Wild — the story of a naive young woman who walks the Pacific Crest Trail, but more significantly a primer of recovery from pain and loss.
Between 2009 and 2012, before Strayed was a bestselling author, she wrote an anonymous advice column called Dear Sugar that ran in an online publication called The Rumpus. Thousands of readers became addicted to her advice on everything from divorce to cross-dressing. Reading it again now, it's vintage Strayed — sometimes a bit out there but deeply empathetic and in the end, quite practical.
Vardalos starred in the play when it premiered at New York City's Public Theatre in 2016 to rave reviews. There's also an Emmy-nominated 2023 television miniseries of the same name starring Kathryn Hahn and Merritt Weaver.
Directed by John Hudson, Shadow Theatre's version features a talented cast led by Michelle Todd as Sugar. Michael Peng, Sydney Williams and Brett Dahl play a variety of letter-writers. As the play opens, Sugar is folding a basket of laundry at her kitchen counter when the offer to take over the advice column arrives via email. The first letter is from a reader who wonders when it's time to tell his girlfriend he loves her. Except he's not sure he does and hopes Sugar can define the meaning of love.
Sugar shares a story of her own (Strayed was married to a perfectly nice man and all she ever wanted to do was leave) and then, in her signature style, she empowers the reader to assume responsibility for coming up with his own definition of love.
“You get to describe it,” she says as she signs off.
And so it goes. Sugar has a knack for getting to the heart of an issue, but she's not prescriptive. She believes in agency and has faith that no matter how big or thorny the issue, how abusive the parent or tragic the illness — each of us has a way to make life better using nothing but our own hearts, minds and will.
Her advice is sometimes inconsistent. Sugar is unabashed when readers point that out.
“I will show you my brokenness and I will show you my strength,” is her retort.
As a narrative, there isn't much to the play. It goes absolutely nowhere. This matters not. Tiny Beautiful Things is not so much a story as a window into the extraordinarily complex lives that many of us live. As an audience member, there's a thrillingly voyeuristic element to the epistolary voyage. It's also a reminder of the power of empathy.
Sugar is a tough role to play — every story is essentially the same, as is her advice, which is invariably an exhortation to figure it out. But Todd pulls it off, managing to channel Strayed's talent for burrowing right into a big mess and finding a tiny, beautiful thing to hang on to. Can you forgive yourself? Yes. Should you forgive others? Absolutely.
As letter-writers, Peng, Williams and Dahl demonstrate the power of listening. They may lean on the counter or wander about the set (eye-catchingly designed by Cindi Zuby to reflect a somewhat cluttered but under-control domestic space). Occasionally, they peel an orange or pull a pitcher from the fridge.
But mostly they keep their eyes on their guru and wait. Darrin Hagen's sound design also pays attention to the upside of patience. At first, the letters arrive in Sugar's inbox with a loud “ping,” but over time, that single jarring note moves to a soft chord and eventually, a short, thoughtful melody.
Most of the stories are sad and many are rooted in Strayed's experience of losing her mother at a young age. Were it not for the powerful writing, the story could feel like a massive downer. (There's the potential for laughs in a couple of the stories, including the one about Sexy Santa and the kids who move home without asking in their thirties.)
But there is a payoff for the audience. Tiny Beautiful Things believes in getting on the crazy train and riding it until the last station, where there's a better-than-even chance you'll find redemption, healing and peace.