Orphans
Let’s start with the positives. The performances in Al Miller’s revival of Lyle Kessler’s 1983 play Orphans are absolutely tremendous. Fred Woodley Evans completely inhabits the childlike Phillip; his hands tremble as he addresses his older, more violent and streetwise brother, Treat, and he gazes with wide-eyed wonder out of the window of the little row house they inhabit in North Philadelphia. Treat (Chris Walley), too, is sharply drawn as spiky and hostile, often clutching a small penknife to heighten his menace. The trio is completed by Forbes Masson as Harold, the elusive businessman whom Treat kidnaps in the hope of an easy robbery, only to discover someone far more unsettling; his performance is suitably dark, jittery and inscrutable.
And yet, despite the talent on show here, it feels as though there are plenty of plays far more worthy of revival in 2026. The two brothers live alone and parentless, though their mother’s coats and shoes still decorate the space like relics. While Treat ventures out to make ends meet through theft and intimidation in the neighbourhood, Phillip is ordered to stay inside, dressed in pyjamas like a child, secretly reading and watching television. In form, it could best be described as a poor man’s Pinter or Shepard.
The play leaves us with more questions than answers. What happened to Phillip and Treat’s parents? Who, exactly, is Harold — a gangster or a man who deals in stocks and bonds? And how does he manage to convince these two...
