THIS HOUSE STANDS ON FAITH AND FURY
Invictus Theatre’s The House That Will Not Stand
blazes with wit, grief, and grace

Following the smashing success of its production of Angels in America, Invictus Theatre Co. notches up another triumph with Marcus Gardley’s Obie-winner, The House That Will Not Stand. In this (very) loose adaptation of The House of Bernarda Alba by the great Federico García Lorca, Gardley transposes the action from pre-Spanish Civil War, Andalusia, to a house in early 19th-century New Orleans, where Beartrice Albans has just begun mourning for a recently deceased husband; well, not quite husband, but we’ll get to that later.

Sandra Adjoumani (La Veuve), Shenise Brown (Makeda)

Kevin Rolfs’ set depicts a cutaway of a house on three levels, sprawling the length of the space. From the overgrown vines, weather-battered clapboards, and peeling paint, the impression of the majestic NOLA mansion—standing proud with its old-world elegance even as its individual features fall into disrepair—is so strong that one can almost smell the damp and petrichor.

Aysia Slade (Odette), Sierra Coachman (Maude Lynn)

Center stage, on the dining table, is the corpse of the not-quite-husband, Lazare, played by Chicago theater stalwart Ron Quade, who is likely the funniest corpse in the history of theater (I will say no more). The script has a dark and mischievous sense of humor running through its narrative, and it’s very welcome too, given that Gardley gives an excessively weepy and emotional character the name “Maude Lynn” (read: maudlin); that itself is almost worthy of a star.

Kaylah Marie Crosby (Agnès), Sierra Coachman (Maude Lynn),
Aysia Slade (Odette), Britt Edwards (Beartrice)

Presiding over this house of mourning is matriarch Beartrice Albans, who rules with an iron fist, keeping her three daughters (Agnés, Odette, Maude Lynn), house slave Makeda, and mad sister Marie Josephine strictly in line.

Kaylah Marie Crosby (Agnès),  Sierra Coachman (Maude Lynn), Aysia Slade (Odette),
Britt Edwards (Beartrice), Sandra Adjoumani (La Veuve)

A brief history lesson: Plaçage was a form of civil union in French colonies where white men were legally joined to women of color. While there were benefits conferred upon these women, legally they were not considered wives. The term used for them was placée (a word you will encounter frequently in this play). Beartrice Albans is the placée of Lazare, not his wife, and upon his death is determined to hold on to what is promised to her—primarily, the house where she lives and raised the children she bore him. But the United States government has just acquired New Orleans in the Louisiana Purchase. The rules are changing for the free people of color, and a level of urgency and desperation has been introduced in the now entirely female household—from Beartrice, to her headstrong daughters, and down to Makeda, who sees the window for her long-promised manumission rapidly shrinking.

Britt Edwards (Beartrice), Sandra Adjoumani (La Veuve)

The House of Bernarda Alba focused on the crushing effects of patriarchy and internalized misogyny. Gardley takes this to another level by introducing race into the equation and goes even further by examining internalized racism along with internalized misogyny. All of this comes to a head in a startling sequence where a house slave, owned by a free woman of color, is denied even corporeal agency when she’s asked—nay, told—to let her body become a vessel for the spirit of a white man. Aaron Reese Boseman’s staging is masterful here; it’s a stunningly directed and performed scene, with Shenise Brown (as Makeda) giving an astonishing physical performance.

Aysia Slade (Odette), Sierra Coachman (Maude Lynn)

The performers are almost uniformly wonderful. Sierra Coachman (Maude Lynn), Kaylah Marie Crosby (Agnés), and Aysia Slade (Odette) are all excellent as the headstrong (in different ways) daughters. Ultimately the agent of chaos, Slade is especially wonderful and moving. It’s a complex performance—and the most effective one in the show.

Kaylah Marie Crosby (Agnès), Aysia Slade (Odette), Sierra Coachman (Maude Lynn)

My only real issue with the production is Britt Edwards as Beartrice. She is excellent when she’s hurling vicious zingers at everyone around her, but when it comes to the heavier emotional stuff, she’s too overwrought and over-emotes. This is high melodrama, yes, but her delivery hews closer to camp than is good for the show, and her climactic wail wrecks what should have been a devastating Chekhovian closing scene. Fortunately, the production is strong enough to withstand it.

Jimiece Gilbert (Marie Josephine),  Shenise Brown (Makeda)

To be sure, there are issues with the script. Some of the humor—especially the “sweet potato pie” bit—is entirely too coarse. It’s not that I object to coarse humor, but it doesn’t work here. While the dialogue is anything but genteel, that bit just seems anachronistic. There is way too much subject matter to be explored in one play, even one that is well over two hours long; not for nothing do the ending(s) come off as rushed. Odette and Makeda’s arcs are particularly ill-served by this, even if the latter’s final moments onstage are incredibly moving and emotional. That said, the staggering ambition of this play cannot be emphasized enough.

Ron Quade (Lazare), Jimiece Gilbert (Marie Josephine)

This was a mentally exhausting show (in a good way). Boseman is so imaginative and clever with his staging and direction, and the characters are so richly portrayed that I was frequently overstimulated by the layers upon layers of nuance and insight that could be drawn from them.

Shenise Brown (Makeda), Aysia Slade (Odette)

And then Marie Josephine (Jimiece Gilbert, in a heartbreaking turn) gets her moment in a dialogue-free, early-morning dance with the love of her life, played with charm and humor by Bryan Nicholas Carter. The entire scene is gorgeously choreographed by Isis Elizabeth and lit by Levi J. Wilkins. I didn’t want it to end—but it does, and with a clever allusion to Orpheus and Eurydice, Marie Josephine gets her happy ending.

It was sublime.

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photos by by Aaron Reese Boseman Photography

The House That Will Not Stand
Invictus Theatre Co.
Windy City Playhouse, 3014 W. Irving Park Road in Chicago
two and a half hours, including one 15 minute intermission
ends on December 14, 2025
for dates and tickets ($25-$38) visit Invictus

for more shows, visit Theatre in Chicago

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