POLLUTION ISN’T THE ONLY
PROBLEM IN SULFUR BOTTOM

Playwright Rishi Varma sets out with noble intentions in Sulfur Bottom—to shine a light on environmental racism and the communities whose lives have been devastated by pollution and industrial encroachment. Yet despite its ambitious scope, the play’s non-linear family saga, spanning thirty years and three generations, offers more muddle than clarity.

Feyisola Soetan, Eric Easter

At its core is a family of color living in a dilapidated home poisoned by a nearby factory’s toxic soil. In one pivotal scene, a corporate lackey, Mr. Copal (confidently played at the second preview by understudy Aaron Dorelien), arrives with a petition guaranteeing the soil is safe to hold the factory’s waste. Aunt Melissa (Joyah Dominique), irritated rather than suspicious, signs it to get rid of his nuisance. Her inaction, however, becomes emblematic of the family’s collapse and the untimely deaths that follow. Unfortunately, the moment raises more frustration than insight—where is the urgency, the resistance, the inspiration toward justice?

Joyah Dominique, Aaron Dorelien

Varma notes in his script that there is “joy in every scene, that within the pain lies humor and beauty.” On the page, perhaps. On stage, under Megumi Nakamura’s uneven direction, little of that comes through. Instead, the play’s absurd moments tip into the arbitrary. A deer, embodied by actor Eric Easter, is dead and carved for steaks—its carcass laid out across the family’s living room floor. Later, a whale—played either by actor Kevin Richard Best or by his character Sir Cavin—beaches itself in front of the couch. These costume-less animals come off as esoteric curiosities, theatrically striking at first yet thematically pretentious.

Joyah Dominique, Kevin Richard Best, Feyisola Soetan

The play circles around the question of who started the fire that destroyed the family home. But when the revelation arrives, it feels less like a discovery than a confirmation of what the audience already knows. Backstories are delivered through flashbacks, flash-forwards, and ghostly visitations—devices that too often flatten rather than enrich the drama. The ghosts cling to the polluted house, insisting on family dinners even in death, but the gesture strains credibility and coherence. A stronger dramaturgical hand might have sharpened these ideas; surprising, then, that dramaturg Jocelyn Prince and literary consultant Eric Webb were credited in the program.

Kendyl Grace Davis

Production values match the play’s uncertainty. With the Jerry Orbach Theater rotating between four budget-conscious shows (including Singfeld and The Office! A Musical Parody), resources are scarce. Daniel Prosky’s revolving walls show little progression from bad to worse, while Sam Weiser’s lighting frequently leaves actors adrift in shadows—though, in fairness, the gloom fits the play’s murky tone. Sid Diamond’s booming soundscape, supported by Jacob Brandt’s eerie compositions, establishes atmosphere indeed, but often overwhelms the contrasting dialogue.

Kevin Richard Best, Aaron Dorelien

Performances vary. Dominique’s sitcom-bright delivery and mugging clashed with the others, while Best played so inwardly for the close-up of a camera, he nearly disappeared. Easter and Dorelien, by contrast, anchored their scenes with conviction. Kendyl Grace Davis navigated the role of Fran, and Feyisola Soetan as her daughter Maeve, both with determination.

Kendyl Grace Davis

For all its aspiration, Sulfur Bottom feels more like a workshop draft than a finished play. Its mix of social indictment, family drama, and absurdist allegory never coheres, and its earnest themes collapse under the weight of muddled storytelling. As one theatergoer muttered while leaving: “What was that?!” Which, in truth, was a lot nicer than what my theater companion declared.

Kendyl Grace Davis, Feyisola Soetan

photos by Austin Pogrob

Sulfur Bottom
The Jerry Orbach Theatre
The Theater Center, 1627 Broadway, 3rd Floor
Wed at 7:30; Sat at 1
for tickets, visit Sulfur Bottom or Ticketmaster