POWER, CONTROL, AND
WHAT LURKS BENEATH

Shanley’s psychological thriller simmers
with tension, even when it overreaches

Di Zhu (Pearl), Rebecca De Mornay (Evelyn)

John Patrick Shanley digs back into power and vulnerability in The Pushover, a world premiere now at the Chain Theatre. Directed by Kirk Gostkowski, the play feels like a ring where everyone is both throwing punches and asking for a hug. It starts with a therapy session: Pearl (Di Zhu) is an intense, conflicted, and fragmented chef who describes herself as “a pushover” and “rash,” which means that she suppresses, tolerates, builds resentment, and then explodes.

Di Zhu (Pearl)

Her father was violent, treated her as “property,” but she was “okay with it,” which suggests her idea of love as domination and pain. Her mother, instead, was a passive victim, a model for her pushover identity, so Pearl is psychologically split between the two—attracted to strong women, drawn to dominance. She wears white gloves because she thinks they are erotic, connecting her to a past, important relationship, circling something she feels is dangerous to say directly.

Christopher Sutton (Therapist), Di Zhu (Pearl)

The therapist (Christopher Sutton) follows a standard intake style, trying to clarify identity and preferences, fixating on the gloves too long and missing emotional cues, but he does a solid job of holding the emotional space steady. Pearl wants to confess something but fears consequences, oscillating between openness and defense, while he just wants clarity. She is not just “conflicted”; she is someone who has reached a breaking point and may have acted in a way that scares even herself—the perfect way to start a thriller.

Di Zhu (Pearl), Rebecca De Mornay (Evelyn)

Evelyn (Rebecca De Mornay), Pearl’s ex-girlfriend, is relaxing on a lounge chair when she has an unexpected visitor. She lives in an isolated desert “residential spa” with few clients, a controlled, perceptive, and dominant woman. From the start, she establishes physical vulnerability (“I cracked a rib”), immediately pairing it with strength (cracked it while kickboxing), as if to say: I’m hurt, but I’m still the most dangerous person in the room—a classic power-balancing move. Unlike Pearl and her new guest, Evelyn stays calm, lets silence and questions do the work, like someone accustomed to holding secrets and power.

Christina Toth (Soochi)

Soochi (Christina Toth), the guest, is all over the place: jittery, guarded, identity-protective, and internally tense. She should be competent because she manages restaurants, but she leaks anxiety, defensiveness, and plenty of irritation. She is acting as a messenger for Pearl, carrying an envelope. Their interaction is funny: Evelyn probes, Soochi deflects, Evelyn escalates subtly, Soochi destabilizes—until Evelyn regains calm control. She doesn’t open the envelope; instead, she feels it, as if she knew what it contained.

Di Zhu (Pearl)

What is inside the envelope is the key to this actor-driven, language-centered, and psychologically dense thriller. Conversation is the action: characters circle truths, resist exposure, and generate tension through what remains unsaid. It is a mode of writing that requires precision in escalation and physical expression to fully come alive in performance. The dialogue occasionally tips into self-awareness, with certain lines feeling more like thematic declarations than lived-in speech, but the story remains engaging and genuinely funny. Visually, the production keeps things spare but purposeful. Jackson Berkley’s set, Debbi Hobson’s costumes, Dariel Garcia’s lighting, and Greg Russ’s sound add their touch without overwhelming the already overly emotional ecosystem on stage.

Christina Toth (Soochi)

There is one main problem: in rendering the characters overtly theatrical, Gostkowski sacrifices the intimacy and danger written by Shanley. They already speak with a psychological signature; there is no need to overdo it. That said, having seen an early performance, there is reason to believe the director may yet recalibrate, since the talented cast is more than capable of grounding the production. It’s a mixed bag, a chamber play in which tension arises from unspoken truths. With better physical staging and a little editing, it could become compelling and thrilling to watch.

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photos by Dan Wright Photography

The Pushover
Chain Theatre
312 West 36th Street, New York
Wed–Sat at 7; Sat & Sun at 2
ends on April 26, 2026
for tickets ($45–$89), visit Chain Theatre

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