The first time I read Cheryl Strayed’s 2012 book Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life From Dear Sugar — which documents the bestselling author’s work as an anonymous advice columnist for The Rumpus — I was shocked by how much I related to its themes and stories. After all, I’d never endured the crushing hardships shared by so many of her readers. I hadn’t suffered abuse or neglect, a lonely childhood or a loveless marriage. And yet, somehow I found bits of myself reflected in both the letters they wrote and in Sugar’s deeply personal responses.
Remarkably, Nia Vardalos’ stage adaptation of Tiny Beautiful Things — playing at Actors Bridge Ensemble through April 16 — packs an even more powerful punch than the book. Vardalos, of My Big Fat Greek Wedding fame, has created a thoughtful and surprisingly hopeful piece of theater. Co-conceived by Marshall Heyman and Thomas Kail, the play celebrates all the complexities and contradictions of the human experience with honesty, humor and breathtaking compassion.
It opens in Sugar’s cozy, cluttered living room, just as she has agreed to take over the online column. Her email immediately blows up with queries big and small — all brought to life by a swirling trio of actors, who address Sugar directly as they take on the identity of various letter writers. And for the next 90 minutes or so, Sugar replies to each one with gentle truth and candor — revealing her own experiences and struggles in the process.
This nontraditional call-and-response format could prove to be rather trying, if not for the efforts of director Leah Lowe and her talented cast. Lowe demonstrates such a crystalline vision throughout, taking full advantage of the intimate Actors Bridge Studio and Paul Gatrell’s nicely detailed set, making us feel as if we are guests in Sugar’s home. Lowe keeps her actors moving in a masterful constellation of aching humanity. And when they pause — just long enough for the emotions to really land — the impact is palpable.
It’s wonderful to see Actors Bridge Ensemble’s producing artistic director Vali Forrister back onstage as the unlikely hero Sugar. Forrister delivers her lines with warmth and credible wisdom, punctuating bits of humor with a knowing smile and a twinkle in her eye. But some of her best moments actually occur in silence, as she listens to her readers, allowing the considerable weight of their tragedies to register fully on her face and in her body.
The three Letter Writers (Clay Steakley, Joy Pointe and Josh Inocalla) serve as a Greek chorus of sorts, highlighting the extraordinary highs and lows we all must encounter in this life. They work well as a unit, and I especially loved the way they took over Sugar’s space — whether helping fold the laundry or checking out leftovers in the kitchen. But each actor also finds their own moment to soar, seamlessly shape-shifting to become writers of different ages and genders. Pointe offers a particularly tender portrayal of a young woman who suffers a miscarriage and is left “grieving for a child that never was.” Inocalla also is excellent as a trans man, grappling with the possibility of forgiveness for the parents who once rejected him cruelly, but now seem ready to reconcile. And as “Living Dead Dad” — a man whose 22-year-old son was killed by a drunk driver — Steakley gives us an exquisite portrait of loss, anger and anguish.
Forrister’s Sugar meets them all with “radical sincerity and open arms.” Her love for these strangers is obvious and abundant, and she holds nothing back from them. And isn’t that what we’re all looking for in the end? Life may not offer easy answers, but it’s reassuring to know that our questions are valid. And at a time when so many of us are feeling isolated and alone, Tiny Beautiful Things reminds us that we are all worthy of love and connection.
