Bahia Watson, Nicole Power, Mazin Elsadig, Ghazal Azarbad and Carlos Gonzalez-Vio in The Comeuppance | Photo by Dahlia Katz.
Though there are plenty of words spoken by some typically compelling actors and written by an acclaimed playwright, The Comeuppance is far too empty for its runtime and thematic pretensions. Presented by Soulpepper, this Canadian premiere of Branden Jacobs-Jenkins’ indulgent play is given an atmospheric treatment by director Frank Cox-O’Connell and his design team, but neither they nor the cast can overcome a script that just won’t get out of its own ass long enough to show us anything real—except, perhaps, a hint of American exceptionalism creeping in the fringes.
Set in the present day, on the front porch and yard of an isolated little suburban home, five former classmates meet to pre-game their 20-year high school reunion. Alcohol and drugs exacerbate middle-age angst and their interpersonal dynamics erupt from quirky gossip and chit-chat into explosive confrontations. This is, of course, a perfect recipe for potent dramatic stew and so I was quite baffled by how boring it all is.
Shannon Lea Doyle’s set offers a cute little red house and yard, surrounded by rather portentously tall shrubbery given poetic dimension by Jason Hand’s lighting, which takes us from late afternoon washes to lonely moonlit evenings. There are also stylishly eerie sequences to establish this space is haunted. Especially effective is the black light that catches in elements of the actors’ make-up to reveal skeletal patterns whenever they are inhabited by the figure of Death. In a whimsical gesture, yes, Death itself is present here as an ominous narrator, adding a sense of increasing dread as he/she/it tells us they’re here for someone specific.
Though this is very much an ensemble piece, the story fixates on Emilio (Masin Elsadig), who has been off in Europe for the past decade and is the most estranged from this group who once called themselves MERG—“Multi-Ethnic Reject Group.” An artistic type, intermittently standoffish and goading, he’s the most disruptive force of this gathering. He comes off sullen and judgemental as he urges them all to acknowledge their unresolved past and current malaise—focusing specifically on a discomfiting, dubiously consensual high school relationship between Caitlin (Nicole Power) and Francisco (Carlos Gonzalez-Vio), whom they call Paco.
Ursula (Ghazal Azarbad), with her distinctive eyepatch, has lost the vision in that covered eye and is functionally blind. She’s the amiable host of this gathering. Also in the mix is Kristina (Bahia Watson), a fatigued doctor with a drinking problem. Watson is the most flamboyant, outrageous amongst them with some truly unhinged moments. She excels in this exuberant mode and makes quite a hilarious spectacle, but I just didn’t buy any of her more distressed histrionics because the text is just so lacking in depth.
Gonzalez-Vio’s Paco especially irritated me. It’s not entirely his fault; the writing makes his PTSD-addled war-vet a hokey caricature, but he leans so heavily on cartoonish delivery that it all feels like schtick, even his vulnerable moments.
Power’s Caitlin was, for me, the most nuanced and consistently compelling presence here. As a woman married to a truther nut-job with two young adult children, all of whom she resents, she has several genuinely funny moments throughout, but it is her contentious relationship with Elsadig’s Emilio—challenging his arrogant insistence that they feel as bad as possible—where I felt some authentic drama.
Ultimately, I didn’t much care about any of these people. Their characterizations and conflicts are too contrived for the emotional beats to properly resonate. The dialogue also relies so heavily on relentless expository banter and it just isn’t finessed into verisimilitude. Even their idiosyncrasies and inside jokes seem stilted.
Jacobs-Jenkins’ intention here is to examine the fraught American psyche. The recent pandemic looms large over the characters, as do the more localized tragedies of Columbine and 9/11. There are some intriguing ideas floating around here, but in execution, it’s all so glib. Quite late in the game though, my ears perked up at Emilio’s rant, where he subverts the heroism of Paco’s traumatic military service and laments their shared position as mere “employees” of exploitative systems. This is the closest Jacobs-Jenkins gets to an insightful take on our current situation and, more broadly, the human condition.
The Comeuppance
October 30 to November 23, 2025
Young Centre for the Performing Arts
(50 Tank House Lane)
2 hours, 10 minutes (no intermission)
Mazin Elsadig, Ghazal Azarbad in The Comeuppance | Photo by Dahlia Katz