FAITH, HOPE, AND QUEERITY:
AMEN TO THAT

Flux Theatre Ensemble finds grace
where religion and identity collide

One of the great joys of theatergoing in New York City is discovering the countless small companies producing work that rivals established organizations. Add Flux Theatre Ensemble to that list. Its current production, Fear & Wonder, is ambitious, moving, and bathed in a spirit of grace.

Written as two intertwining narratives that gradually converge, Fear & Wonder unfolds along parallel tracks. One storyline captivated me completely; the other left me questioning whether it was wholly necessary. Yet, in the end, as they join together, they create an experience that is both thoughtful and deeply felt.

The production begins before the audience even enters the theater. In the lobby, an interactive sanctuary invites participation through candle lighting, readings, reflection cards, and tributes honoring queer saints such as Marsha P. Johnson and Audre Lorde. During intermission, communion is offered in the form of gluten-free rice crackers and grape juice. The atmosphere is welcoming, immersive, and intentionally communal.

In place of a traditional program, audience members receive a church bulletin to guide them through the service. Inside the intimate theater, expectations of shoestring-budget aesthetics are quickly dispelled by the polished work of scenic designer Will Lowry and lighting designer Kia Rogers. A raised pulpit, flanked by lecterns and framed with stretched fabric panels and hanging lights, creates a visually striking worship space.

The congregation is welcomed by the Transition Minister, played by Tonia E. Anderson, who immediately establishes authority and warmth. Throughout the evening, sermons, call-and-response moments, the passing of the peace, and congregational singing led by Brendan J. Fox transform the audience into active participants. Anderson is so authentic that I briefly wondered whether she had been recruited from a local church rather than cast as an actor. Her sincerity is undeniable, though the character’s relentless goodness eventually edges toward a kind of Christian preciousness.

Fortunately, the production shifts gears when two young men in church robes (costumes by Izzy Fields) are summoned to enact a story about two church boys who fall in love. Raised within deeply conservative religious families and communities, Jabez Huang (Brian Tong) and Ryan Harris (Neil Tyrone Pritchard) embark on a journey marked by longing, faith, shame, self-discovery, and devotion. When Anderson returns as Ryan’s mother, the contrast is striking and it becomes immediately clear that she’s the real McCoy—a terrific actress.

Despite the abundance of theological discussion and a structure built largely around phone conversations—a device that does not always generate the strongest stage action—the relationship at the center of the play remains utterly compelling. Tong and Pritchard are deeply connected, present, and emotionally truthful. At no point do they appear to be acting; they simply seem to be living the experience. Tong is wonderfully endearing, particularly in a scene where an accidental “I love you” slips out, melting hearts in the process.

Pritchard offers an equally impressive performance. His naturalism, warmth, and impeccable comic timing are a joy to watch. When singing a gospel hymn, his emotional sincerity lands effortlessly. Equally refreshing is the casting itself. Too often, queer romances present idealized versions of attraction built on physical sameness. Here, the relationship embraces difference without comment or apology. In a culture where body shaming remains one of the last socially tolerated prejudices, seeing a love story in which it simply isn’t an issue feels quietly groundbreaking.

Perhaps the reason I struggled with portions of the minister’s storyline is that she doesn’t represent the church that has imprisoned these young men. She embodies the church at its very best—welcoming, affirming, and full of grace—but that idealized vision can feel at odds with the painful religious experiences driving the central narrative. It’s only in the final scene that her presence fully clicks into place.

Emily Hartford‘s direction keeps the production flowing smoothly, though I occasionally questioned whether the repeated resetting and redressing of the pulpit platforms—used to represent the young men’s bedrooms—was necessary. Still, such minor reservations do little to diminish the overall achievement. Fear & Wonder is a heartfelt, inventive production that deserves to be seen, celebrated, and supported. Happy Pride!

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photos courtesy of Flux Theatre Ensemble

Fear & Wonder
Flux Theatre Ensemble
Jeffrey & Paula Gural Theatre
A.R.T./NY Theaters, 502 W. 53rd St. in New York City
ends on June 27, 2026
for tickets, visit Flux Theatre Ensemble

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Gregory Fletcher is a writer and director. His publishing credits include a craft book on playwriting entitled Shorts and Briefs, as well as a collection entitled A Playwright’s Dozen: 13 short plays. Other publishing includes 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 five essays. Website, Facebook, Instagram.