KARA & EMMA & BARBARA & MIRANDA

Throughout Ariel Stess’s deeply affecting and beautifully acted new play, Kara & Emma & Barbara & Miranda, directed by Meghan Finn, I kept thinking about a description I once heard of Chekhov’s plays, that his characters are “caught in the fact of their lives.” 

Such is true of the four women in Stess’s story, whose paths intersect in cascading crises on Christmas Eve. Despite their differences in age and class—they’re from different social milieus in Santa Fe, New Mexico—these women all share a longing to make sense of their lives and a common desire to articulate their unmet needs, some of which they can barely recognize within themselves. They are caught in the fact of their lives, struggling to overcome an emptiness, and grappling with the desire for connection, understanding, and self-actualization.

Stress brings this desire into stark contrast by structuring the play through present-tense monologues. As the women engage with various men through an escalating series of interactions, the female characters narrate the story (and their innermost thoughts) directly to the audience. This structure allows the women to influence how we perceive their experiences, and it forces the audience to imagine the action and location of each scene.

But it also implicates the audience as participants. We are transformed into confidants, friends, or therapists. By bearing witness to their complex inner thoughts, we are left with a sense of urgency and emotional weight that compels us to invest fully in their happiness. This narrative approach feels surprising and somewhat disorienting at first, but as the play unfolds, we become their committed defenders and cheerleaders. 

By contrast, the men (all played excellently by the impassive and inscrutable Paul Ketchum), are not given any interior expression. Without this direct address, they live in 2-D, and we are forced to judge them only by their actions and their words. This does not go well for them. The male characters all embody some form of anger, arrogance, or obstinance. Our inability to see their inner experience is only matched by their inability to see women as complex people deserving of their imagination. Their singular dismissal of the women’s desires or interests leaves the audience wanting from them a depth or compassion that they appear unwilling or unable to give. Mostly, it feels like they continually try to exert control–telling the women to “stop” in one way or another over and over again. 

The play’s humor—it is very funny—comes in large part from how the women handle this attempt at repeated domination. The contrast between the women’s inner monologues and their outer expressions is precisely executed.

Faced with these men, the women desperately struggle to break through their stoic facades or pompous morality. And faced with these women, the men cannot keep up or compete. It’s like they are simply not ready for prime time, not up to the task of processing the idea that the women might be way out ahead of them. 

The play is rich with wit, keen observations, and candid expressions of yearning, set against absurd yet grounded situations. The conclusion, in particular, is a blast, as the women all converge in a hysterical, desperate farce to break free. But the play’s unique power lies in Stess’s seamless ability to make action and movement out of thought and introspection, and to insist that there are no small, mundane moments that do not carry the fullness of life. 

It helps, too, that the acting is fantastic. Kallan Dana, Megan Emery Gaffney, Zoë Geltman, and Colleen Werthmann imbue their characters with a unique specificity and empathy. Through Finn’s graceful and simple direction, the actors use a light touch to elicit emotions that simmer under the surface.  

The set, designed by Pete Betcher, consists only of a platform and a few panels painted an orange that is reminiscent of New Mexican sunsets. Its simplicity complements Finn’s direction and acts as a force multiplier. It heightens the emotional intensity of the characters' inner lives because there’s nowhere for them to escape. In fact, in this stillness, their emotions and thoughts come forward in vivid contrast. 

As an audience member, it’s like you’re on a roller coaster or involved in a high speed car chase, but then you get off the ride only to discover that you’re not in an action movie, you’ve just been swept away by the speed of thought. Nothing could be more thrilling.

Kara & Emma & Barbara & Miranda runs through August 17 at The Tank.

— Jonathan Bock

Jonathan is a writer, producer, and performer living in Brooklyn, NY. Outside of the theater world, Jonathan works in communications and issue advocacy. He enjoys being super intense about Bob Dylan.
Twitter: realjonbock
IG: jawntawn