Life Partners Paul (Che Ayende) and Nya (Melissa Roth) were once also partners in activism; their progressive radio show The Social Justice Suicide Hour is a relic of the early 2000s, which now feels like a century ago. It is the one-year anniversary of their son Edmund’s passing by suicide, and My Dying City: Vol II—the name of the radio show, with its tragic now-double meaning, is the subtitle—takes place on the day of the memorial. It’s a day set in the reality of here and now, as the country marches toward a fascism that they find themselves too grief-stricken and too exhausted to fight.

Paul and Nya both mourn, but not in the same way; their inability to agree on how to properly grieve and honor their son is driving them apart. Their respective relationships with Edmund were complicated and often turbulent; his tragic decision and the utter absence of closure is burning them up inside, and is complicated further by the arrival of Hedia (Shannon Mastel), Edmund’s love interest from college, whom the couple had never seen or heard about. Hedia’s experience and description of an Edmund they hardly knew plunges Paul and Nya deeper into bitterness. “He didn’t show it,” grumbles Paul when Hedia states that Edmund was proud of them; and he and Nya chuckle and scoff when she describes her passion as “helping people,” demonstrating how much they’ve changed since the days of the radio show.

The tension of this sequence is expertly realized, only to be matched by the arrival of Paul and Nya’s friend Barry (Ward Nixon), and Barry’s colleague Moose (Brandon Geer), who as a toddler had lost his father to a hate crime in the aftermath of 9/11. Barry had entered their lives as a radio show caller and joined the couple on the road to revolution, which has now, in 2026, led to a brick wall—one that, in Barry’s view, was inevitable. “We don’t learn from our history,” he laments. “We can barely tie our shoelaces. You’re talking about a country that’s barely glued together by the blood it shed…held together by a string of lies, instigations to repeat the same nonsense every day.”

One of the most intriguing aspects of My Dying City Vol. II is that everyone in the room is on the same side of the political divide. This is not left versus right—it’s left verses left; to see these activists fighting among themselves is to recognize how much those conflicts contribute to the destruction of the very progressive ends they had joined forces to bring about. They disagree about how to fight; they debate whether there’s still reason to fight at all.

Arguing leads to shouting as an alcohol-fueled rage threatens to consume them. It’s a reminder of a terrible truth; the oppressors can just keep doing what they’re doing, because the rebellion will likely eat itself. The juxtaposition of the inability of the characters to agree on if and how to stay politically engaged parallels Paul and Nya’s conflict on how to “correctly” mourn and move on, making the show a remarkable blend of the personal and the political.

When it is revealed that Edmund was born on Oct 9, 2001, a startling revelation about other events that day leads to a horrifying climax that is devastating to watch but is somewhat inevitable in the aftermath of what we’ve witnessed. It leaves us with a palpable despair that parallels the real-world dread many of us feel outside the confines of the stage in the early days of 2026.

Kangalee’s dialogue is a masterclass in writing that is astonishingly realized by the collective cast, each of whom get an “aria” moment to shine. The words are powerful and poetic. The personal pain and despair of each character is so specific to their own journeys that they are completely unable to connect with each other, thus dissolving any remaining glimmer of hope for the future, both in the country and in their individual lives.

Paul and Nya’s apartment (courtesy of Scenic Designer Nina Pineda) is like another character; the coffee table is strewn with and surrounded by progressive books, magazines and newspapers. A shrine to Edmund, which Nya has decorated with dead flowers, watches over the couple’s record collection. A well-stocked bar that the characters keep returning to as the tension escalates sits near a wall of posters of the once mighty The Social Justice Suicide Hour. The lighting by Nicole E. Lang is masterful, the window depicting day, twilight, and night as events build to a fevered climax. The music also perfectly complements proceedings; the songs of Lauryn Hill, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, and Dead Prez are heard, and the covers of their respective albums visible on stage. Snippets of the Social Justice Suicide Hour are played, a bittersweet reminder of a time when the protagonists were hopeful and determined to change the world. Kangalee supports his script with his own stunning direction, bringing it all together to make My Dying City: Vol II a remarkable theatrical experience and a must-see production for our troubled times.

My Dying City: Vol II is produced by the Kangalee Arts Ensemble. It runs at the American Theater of Actors through Jan 25, 2026.

O’Neill’s Formative Years Are Explored at the American Theatre of Actors

To see the very first writings of a legendary playwright performed is always a fascinating endeavor. The ATA’s recent showcase of two of his earliest plays reveals that the iconic Eugene O ‘Neill had a lot up his sleeve before Long Day’s Journey Into Night and The Iceman Cometh.

Fittingly first up is 1913’s A Wife for a Life, O’Neill’s debut play. This somewhat obscure work is known for being an early use of the trope of men in conversation about an offscreen woman. In this short but bittersweet piece, gold miner Sloan (Jonathan Beebe) sits at a campfire in the Arizona desert, waiting for his young buddy and colleague Jack (Travis Bergmann). But Pete (Paul Maurizio) arrives first, with a telegram for Jack, who exuberantly arrives with a bit of the gold they’ve been counting on discovering. Grabbing a bottle to share, Jack toasts to the gold mine he has named “Yvette”—and hearing that name makes Sloan go cold. It is here that the dramatic tension of Wife rises to a 10, as Sloan hears about Jack’s recent romance, and comes to a devastating realization. He has to turn his face away from Jack as he comes to terms with the fact that this man—who once saved his life—was also the one who helped upend it. Sloan grows to Hamlet-like intensity and indecision as he weighs forgiveness against revenge and ponders his own responsibility in the dissolution of his marriage.

Beebe excels as the haunted Sloan, conveying the heartbreak of a man utterly destroyed but determined to find the high road and get on it before he does something he’ll regret. Travis Bergmann provides a stunning contrast as the high-energy Jack, his jubilance contrasting with Sloan’s despair. The piece ends quickly and satisfyingly, and is well-realized by Director John DeBenedetto and the actors.

The Soap-Operatic Recklessness (also directed by DiBenedetto)quickly follows, just as it did in 1913. Bergmann is dramatically different here from the jovial Jack as the wealthy, brusque Arthur Baldwin, husband of Mildred (Natasha Sahs). There is no real love between the upscale Catskills couple, and the unhappy Mildred has found romance instead in an affair with their chauffeur, Fred (Beebe), which began while Arthur was out of town. As with A Wife for a Life, the actors’ skillful depiction of the intense growing tension among the characters as they ride a metaphorical runaway train toward destruction is what drives the melodramatic narrative. Emmy Potter adds more fire as the scorned, scheming maid Jean, whose revenge-minded meddling leads Arthur to make a terrible, vengeance-driven decision. Maurizio is the couple’s butler, who is forced into complicity by Arthur. The road to the shocking denouement is traversed beautifully by the company, from Maurizio’s growing unease to Sahs’ horror and heartbreak, from Bergmann’s ruthlessness to Beebe’s youthful energy. Having A Wife for a Life as the “opener” for Recklessness adds another layer to the audience experience of both, as the callous Arthur’s actions are in stark contrast to the choice made earlier by the more sensitive Sloan.

The two plays come together to provide a fascinating look at O’Neill’s earliest era, and are another great production from the American Theatre of Actors in its triumphant 50^th season.

All photos provided by Dan Lane Willams Photography