ELLA STILLER’S DILARIA: A DEBUT IN EXTREMIS
Three striking Off-Broadway debuts anchor Dilaria, a sharp, volatile new play by Julia Randall at the DR2—the Daryl Roth Theater’s 99-seat space just off Union Square. All three actors arrive with formal training in acting but have mostly appeared in TV and film since graduating. That cinematic background adds a certain emotional precision and interiority to their stage work—often compelling, occasionally too inward—but altogether intriguing to watch.
Chiara Aurelia plays Georgia, the awkward best friend torn between guilt and affection in a relationship she seems to regret. Her performance is emotionally rangy and grounded. She’s already been tapped to take over Sadie Sink’s role in John Proctor Is the Villain on Broadway—an opportunity she seems ready for, judging by the vulnerability and intelligence she brings to Georgia. (Tessa Albertson from All Nighter joins the cast as Georgia July 15.)
Christopher Briney, whose bio lists no prior stage work, plays Noah (pronounced No-WAAH) with disarming charm. Though reportedly “rising quickly in the ranks of Hollywood’s leading men,” it’s not his star wattage that makes an impression here. Rather, it’s his uncanny ability to embody that transitional space between boyhood and manhood—earnest, confused, awkward, and hopeful.
The magnetic center of the play is Ella Stiller in the title role—Dilaria. It’s a gutsy choice for a professional stage debut. Dilaria is aggressive, narcissistic, manipulative, and sexually blunt, and Stiller doesn’t flinch from any of it. Her commitment is total, and she captures the emotional extremes with a force that’s hard from which to look away. She’s also navigating the nuances of Dilaria’s queer identity, layering it with precision and restraint.
However, there’s a key adjustment still to be made: in the close quarters of the DR2, Stiller’s frequent direct eye-lines to other characters—common in TV and film—sometimes leave the audience feeling shut out. On stage, the audience is the camera. We were desperate to see more of her eyes.
Years ago, when Ben Stiller (her father) premiered There’s Something About Mary, he reportedly didn’t want his famously comedic parents, Jerry Stiller and Anne Meara, to attend due to the film’s graphic sexual content. One wonders if Ella might have similar hesitations here. Her opening monologue is a brazen stream of sex talk—blowjobs and cum—front and center. But it’s not gratuitous; it’s character-building. It shows how Dilaria dominates conversation, craves control, and needs attention like oxygen. Interruptions and distractions are not tolerated. The moment the spotlight drifts, she seizes it back.
The first half of the play often feels like a high-octane character study more than a narrative arc. Dilaria’s stories—whether with Georgia or Noah—are intense, graphic, and performed without hesitation. One particularly charged scene with Noah hinges on her promise of a make-out session in exchange for his undivided attention. This manipulation is her signature move, a foreshadowing of what’s to come.
When she vanishes for a chunk of time, her absence is deeply felt. The play’s energy dips. Like a car crash that’s suddenly been cleared, the spectacle of her destructiveness is gone, and what remains feels deflated. But her return—and the twist she’s been orchestrating—lands with a jolt. Without spoiling the surprise, Dilaria gets what she wants. You just won’t see it coming.
Whether or not the ending is fully satisfying is debatable. It tracks emotionally, but director Alex Keegan doesn’t quite pull off the violent climax believably, despite David Anzuelo’s fight direction. And the final line? Unfortunately, it’s a clunker—perhaps the lamest currently echoing on the boards.
Design elements elevate the handsome production. Frank J. Oliva’s realistic studio apartment set feels authentic minus the stage right wall that doesn’t meet the ceiling. Paige Seber’s lighting subtly modulates tone and tension, while Lily Cunicelli’s costumes trace time’s passage and psychological shifts. A rocky start involving a calling-stage manager is quickly forgotten thanks to Keegan’s precise pacing, and when we are rewarded with an unexpectedly resonant epilogue, aided by Erin Sullivan’s slyly satirical video design of Dilaria’s oblivious family and friends, it’s a fun touch even though it doesn’t involve the cast.
Ultimately, Dilaria succeeds more as a showcase for its three actors than as a dramatically satisfying piece. But when the character studies are this vivid, and the performances this promising, that’s more than enough reason to go and cheer.
photos by Emilio Madrid
Dilaria
DR2 Theatre, 103 East 15th Street, off Union Square
Tues-Thurs at 7; Fri & Sat at 8; Wed, Sat and Sun at 2
ends on August 8, 2025
for tickets, visit Dilaria or Telecharge
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Gregory Fletcher is an author, a theater professor, a playwright, director, and stage manager. His craft book on playwriting is entitled Shorts and Briefs, and publishing credits include two YA novels (Other People’s Crazy, and Other People’s Drama), 2 novellas in the series Inclusive Bedtime Stories, 2 short stories in The Night Bazaar series, and several essays. Website, Facebook, Instagram.
