THREE ERAS, ONE MISSED OPPORTUNITY

Brownstone collapses under unfocused, baffling staging

Catherine Butterfield’s Brownstone (2008) is built around a solid, even enticing idea: we have three couples, each occupying the same second-floor apartment in a Manhattan brownstone during three eras—1930s, the 1970s, and the turn of the 21st century. Instead of three separate acts in the same location like Neil Simon’s Plaza Suite or California Suite, their stories are interwoven rather than chronological, meant to reveal how wealth, ambition, and the need for approval—particularly paternal approval—shape behavior across generations. Unfortunately, under the insipid direction of Ron West (Butterfield’s husband) at Atwater Theatre, the smart, potentially rich premise never comes close to fulfilling what that setup promises.

Chelsea Spirito, Matthew Goodrich

In 1978, two young women arrive from Texas determined to conquer Broadway: Deena (Rosie Byrne), wealthy and indulged, and Maureen (Amber Tiara), from a more modest background. Their friendship frays as privilege asserts itself and success comes unevenly. In 1939, Davia (Chelsea Spirito), a spoiled young woman resists—and then predictably falls for—Stephen (Matthew Goodrich), a journalist. To escape her controlling father, the two are Paris-bound, but WWII has other plans. And in 1999, a hot power couple, Jessica (Jade Santana) and Jason (Isaac W. Jay), navigates a relationship built as much on status and networking as affection and physical attraction. An unplanned pregnancy complicates their happy trajectory.

Isaac W. Jay and Jade Santana

That’s the entire play. Three eras, three couples, one brownstone. The expectation is that these parallel lives will speak to one another, revealing a shared human truth beneath shifting social codes. The ideas are there, but they remain largely theoretical. What should emerge from this structure—a sense of universality, of repeating emotional traps across time—never materializes. Butterfield’s script is the strongest element of the evening (I loved her To the Bone at Open Fist), but the writing stops short of true insight and multi-dimensionality. The audience seemed to sense this during last Saturday’s buzzy opening; at intermission, quite a few viewers around me, including my companion, gathered their belongings to exit, assuming the play had already ended.

Amber Tiara and Rosie Byrne

West’s staging for Open Fist Theatre Company consistently works against both the text and the audience. Actors positioned downstage are frequently blocked from view for anyone beyond the first row. Lines are delivered so softly they become inaudible. And as the 1978 besties with Great-White-Way-stars in their eyes, Amber Tiara and Rosie Byrne just feel miscast as fresh-out-of-school actresses.

The Ensemble

Most damaging of all, the emotional temperature remains stubbornly flat, regardless of what the characters are meant to be experiencing. Revelations, confrontations, and turning points all arrive at roughly the same volume and intensity as casual conversation. So many moments that should land with force simply drift by.

Rosie Byrne, Jade Santana, Chelsea Spirito

The actors, all capable, seem to be floundering for substance. Isaac W. Jay, so winning in An Inspector Calls at Theatre 40, is bland and bloodless as a hotshot young gun of Wall Street. Matthew Goodrich, charming in Open Fist’s Amerika, plays the journalist woodenly, blandly reacting to Hitler’s invasion of Poland the same as if his martini were too dirty. The women have the most persuasive arcs in Act II: NYC wreaks havoc on Deena’s emotional stability; Davia goes from snobby sophisticate to a hauntingly tragic figure; and Jessica from a cunning careerist to a pragmatic parent with a new perspective, but only Ms. Santana truly comes to life in a harrowing scene.

Amber Tiara, Jade Santana, Isaac W. Jay

Jan Monroe’s set initially suggests clever compartmentalization, carving the stage into adjacent spaces meant to reflect different eras. But as the play goes on—and as Gavan Wyrick’s flat, unresponsive lighting repeatedly misses opportunities to establish mood—the design devolves into visual clutter, resembling three decades of department-store décor colliding at once, like a century of Macy’s vomited on the stage. And then there’s that hideous folding portable partition, used to suggest a wall that divvies up the brownstone in the ’70s…

Matthew Goodrich, Chelsea Spirito, Amber Tiara, Isaac W. Jay, Jade Santana

There is an essence to Brownstone somewhere in its core, and its final scene gestures toward something affecting. But between unfocused staging, muffled performances, and a lack of emotional escalation and design imagination, the production never finds its footing. What might have been a thoughtful meditation on ambition, privilege, abandonment, and the march of time instead becomes a dispiriting example of how much damage poor direction can do to a workable script.

Amber Tiara and Rosie Byrne

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photos by Erin Clendenin

Brownstone
Open Fist Theatre Company
Atwater Village Theatre, 3269 Casitas Ave.
Fri & Sat at 8; Sun at 2
ends on February 28, 2026 EXTENDED to March 14, 2026
for tickets ($26 to $40, including fees), call 323.882.6912 or visit Open Fist

for more shows, visit Theatre in LA

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