Country Roads, Quiet Rooms, and Inner Weight: Two Plays in Conversation

Evan Clausen, Caroline Portante and Sadithi De Zilva in a scene from Anthony Anello’s “let’s talk about anything else” at The Flea Theater (Photo credit: Mikiodo)

As TheaterScene.net approaches its 24th anniversary, I’ve been reflecting not only on the shows we cover but also on how they speak to one another across the season. Sometimes two productions, opening within days of each other, unexpectedly illuminate common ground. This past week, seeing let’s talk about anything else (reviewed by Victor Gluck) and The Porch on Windy Hill (reviewed by Joseph Pisano), I couldn’t help but notice how these seemingly different works echo each other in intriguing ways.

Both plays are set in rural landscapes — environments that strip characters down to essentials, away from the distractions of the city. Whether it’s a porch overlooking the Carolina hills or a room in the woods that shifts like a dream, the settings invite intimacy. That intimacy asks a lot of the performers, and in both cases, the casts rose to the challenge.

In Anthony Anello’s let’s talk about anything else, the ensemble’s strength was in its precision and understatement. Sadithi De Zilva and Evan Clausen drew the audience in with performances that were beautifully natural, particularly in how they allowed silences and pauses to carry meaning. What heightened their work was the unconventional staging: parts of the set dissolved into shadow, figures appeared as though glimpsed through a window, and some presences on stage seemed less like characters than subconscious voices, externalized for us to see. The effect was less a realistic Airbnb cabin than a fluid space — one that bent to the actors’ emotional states, morphing into whatever environment their psyche demanded.

Tora Nogami Alexander, Morgan Morse and David M. Lutken in a scene from the new musical “The Porch on Windy Hill” at Urban Stages (photo credit: Ben Hider)

The Porch on Windy Hill, written by Sherry Stregack Lutken, Lisa Helmi Johanson, Morgan Morse and David M. Lutken, found its heartbeat in music. Tora Nogami Alexander’s warmth and clarity as both singer and violinist, alongside the musicianship of David M. Lutken and Morse, made the Appalachian repertoire feel both authentic and essential to the drama. The acting was heartfelt, but the music elevated everything, transforming family conflict into something lyrical and restorative. Here, the design grounded the play in a more traditional sense of place: a porch setting that suggested home and memory, with lighting that wrapped the action in a golden, late-afternoon glow.

Seen side by side, both productions reminded me of what makes Off-Broadway so distinctive. These weren’t shows built on spectacle, but on trust: one cast trusted silence, the other trusted song; one design leaned into abstraction, the other into warmth and familiarity. Both, in their different ways, embodied the kind of artistry that sustains New York’s theater ecosystem beyond Broadway marquees.

As publisher, that’s what I’ll carry forward from this week: a reminder that the strength of Off Broadway rests not only in the stories being told, but in the actors, musicians, and designers who bring them to life. When artists fully inhabit their worlds — whether in a dreamlike cabin or on a welcoming porch — theater becomes less about what’s said and more about what’s felt.