Displaying items by tag: Mrs Krishnan’s Party

As I entered the black box studio at Chicago Shakespeare Theater, I’ll admit - I wasn’t in the best frame of mind. Before leaving home, I’d watched the news: the endless cycle of violence, bombings, and that tired “us versus them” narrative that seems to define our moment. My spirit felt worn down. On top of that, I had spent the day finishing a review from earlier in the week, so I arrived more drained than inspired. Theatre, on this night, felt like an obligation.

Then Mrs. Krishnan’s Party happened - and everything shifted.

Instead of the usual routine of being guided to my seat by The Saints, I was greeted at the door by James (Justin Rogers), dressed in an outfit that immediately caught my attention. He asked my name. We talked. It wasn’t forced or performative - it was genuinely human. By the time he led me to my seat, the invisible barrier between audience and performer had already begun to dissolve. He introduced me to the people around me: to my left, a well-traveled gentleman from Ohio by way of India; to my right, a mother and daughter who helped identify James’s attire as a South Indian costume, rich with cultural specificity. Already, I wasn’t just watching a show - I was part of a group.

That’s when I realized we were not simply audience members, but guests of James, who was hosting a surprise party for his landlady. The occasion is Onam - a vibrant harvest celebration rooted in the southern Indian state of Kerala. What unfolds is not just theatre, but an act of radical hospitality. Music pulses. Conversations bloom. Strangers become co-conspirators in joy. This show is more than immersive - it is enveloping, dissolving the line between performer and audience until you’re no longer watching a story, you’re living inside it.

This approach is the hallmark of Indian Ink Theatre Company, the New Zealand-based ensemble behind the production. Founded by Justin Lewis and Jacob Rajan in the late 1990s, the company has earned an international reputation for creating intimate, actor-driven works that blend South Asian storytelling traditions with contemporary theatre. Their work explores identity, migration, and cultural hybridity through a deeply human - and often humorous - lens. More than anything, they prioritize connection: their productions don’t just tell stories; they build shared experiences.

And that’s what undid me.

Photo courtesy of Indian Ink Theatre Company.

When Mrs. Krishnan (Kalyani Nagarajan) finally arrives, she is startled to find the back of her small shop filled with strangers. There’s hesitation - this wasn’t her plan - and beneath it, something heavier lingers. As the evening unfolds, we begin to feel the weight she carries: the loss of her husband, the quiet ache of a son - an architect - now gone. These moments settle into the space with a tender gravity, reminding us that her warmth is hard-earned.

And yet, just as the story begins to lean into that sorrow, the play grabs and lifts us again. Laughter breaks through, balloons appear. Music returns. The room brightens. What begins as disruption transforms into delight as she embraces the gathering and, in a gesture both intimate and communal, decides to cook daal for all of us. In that moment, grief and joy exist side by side—each making space for the other.

Somewhere between the laughter, the dancing, and the smell of daal, the heaviness I carried into the theatre dissolved. Not in a naïve or escapist way, but in a way that felt necessary. Soundly directed by Justin Lewis, the show doesn’t ignore the fractured world outside; it quietly insists on another possibility within it: community, warmth, shared humanity.

By the end of the evening, I realized I hadn’t just watched a play - I had been in community with people different than me, yet deeply the same. In a time when division dominates the headlines, Mrs. Krishnan’s Party offers something deceptively simple and profoundly radical: a room full of strangers choosing, for a moment, to be together.

And that, right now, feels like everything.

Recommended

When: Through May 3rd
Where: Chicago Shakespeare Theatre 800 East Grand Avenue in Chicago.
Tickets: $74 - $90

Box Office: 312.595.5600
Info:  www.chicagoshakespeare.com

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com.