By Kimberly Rau
Trinity Rep opens its 2025-26 season with the world premiere of “Cold War Choir Practice” a new work by Brown MFA playwriting graduate Ro Reddick, directed by Aileen Wen McGroddy. Trinity has long been a proponent of showcasing new work, and this one is exceptional.
It’s December 1987. The Cold War has been going on for decades. The INF Treaty has not yet been signed and the anti-Soviet propaganda machine is in full swing. The prior generation learned to hide under their desks; this one is learning twee songs about sharing milkshakes with “a Soviet friend.”
“War is imminent…Did you know the voice of a child has the power to stop a nuclear attack?” little Meek writes to her Soviet pen pal, expressing her sadness for the plight of those in the USSR in one sentence and offering up her Christmas list in the next (toys, and a radiation fallout detector). Not one for empty words and no action, Meek is also busy stealth-converting her father Smooch’s office into a fallout shelter, complete with bottles of water.
The Berlin Wall stood as both a literal and metaphorical divide between democracy and communism. But on American soil, another cold war was brewing, this one between Black Americans and Reagan’s made up, so-called “welfare queen.” And while Smooch is busy trying to keep the lights on at the family roller rink, his brother Clay is all too happy to rewrite the boys’ childhood to lend credence to Reagan’s racism.
More money, more problems: Clay may be one of the president’s righthand men, but his wife, Virgie, is in deep with a cult that’s trying to use her to advance their agenda. Clay and Virgie show up at the roller rink, but are met with hostility from Smooch and disappointment from the boys’ mother, Puddin’, when she learns what her son has been saying in the press. Meanwhile, Meek has received a Speak-n-Spell from her Soviet pen pal, which is teaching her more than just phonics. “Mutually assured destruction” takes on new, much more local meaning once the brothers are in proximity to one another. And then there’s the matter of the cult, and those pesky Soviets…
Reddick’s script offers a look at serious subjects cushioned with a healthy dose of humor. Director McGroddy seems to have interpreted it perfectly, and a stellar cast of actors take the challenging story in their stride.
Mathieu Myrick is the hard-working, stressed-out Smooch, whose primary focus is putting one foot in front of the other in the face of declining business and a society that seems to have rejected the idea of “power to the people.” Myrick is soft when the situation calls for it (gently chastising his daughter for eating too much candy and breaking into his office) and formidable when he must be (taking his brother to task). Brother Clay is played by Taavon Gamble, who infuses the character with mannerisms that are the polar opposite of Myrick’s. When the family matriarch calls him out for his hurtful, untrue account of his childhood, Gamble’s internal struggle is palpable. Gamble and Myrick work exceptionally well together on stage. This includes a brilliant bit of outside-the-box choreography by Gamble, a hilarious roller derby battle.
Jackie Davis is Puddin’, the one keeping the house together while Smooch runs the business. Davis is a versatile, talented actor and is the perfect person to convey the truths Puddin’ has learned over a lifetime of struggle. “You show them what kind of man you are,” she tells Clay of his role as White House sycophant. “Just know you’re showing me, too.”
Lucia Aremu is Meek, an idealistic little girl who really believes her participation in the children’s choir will help end the Cold War. Meek is the embodiment of the phrase “out of the mouths of babes,” and Aremu is adept at channeling her inner child to make the portrayal incredibly real. At the other end of the spectrum is Virgie, who is so divorced from reality that her prefrontal cortex should be seeking child support. Rebecca Gibel returns to Trinity’s stage to offer a perfectly funny and pathetic portrayal of a woman on the verge of breaking down (again).
Rounding out the cast are Alison Russo, Anna Slate, Hannah Spacone and Emily Turtle, who play the other members of the children’s choir, cult representatives, and/or the voice of the Soviets, a Greek chorus of manipulation and chaos. All are exceptional, as a unit or individually. “I’m from AAA,” Alison Russo lies in an unnaturally calm voice, perfect blow-out, designer coat and stiletto heels be damned.
All the while, stylized media clips from the day play on the backdrop, while choir songs and Soviet soundbites infiltrate the narrative. Did I mention there are puppets? It’s a surreal, brilliant way to contextualize the events of the 80s, and a reminder that division is the vehicle through which much destruction is accomplished. Reaganomics failing for you at a personal level? Blame the person getting food stamps, and don’t you dare think of questioning capitalism. What are you, a communist?
Don’t let the humor fool you. This show is deep, with thought-provoking topics that extend far beyond the fall of the Berlin Wall. Reddick has given us a striking medium for these ideas, and Trinity has done what it does best to bring them to life. I’ve seen a lot of new work at Trinity, and this is one of the best. The connections between what happened then and what we’re experiencing now are impossible to ignore (Reagan’s election can be largely attributed to Jerry Falwell’s Moral Majority) and deserve discussion. Make time to understand how a lot of those wheels were put in motion. You won’t be sorry.
“Cold War Choir Practice” runs through Oct. 5, 2025, at the Trinity Repertory Company, 201 Washington St., Providence. Tickets may be obtained at the box office, online at trinityrep.com or by calling 401.351.4242.
