Where do we put our faith? Life is hard, and as humans we are all grasping for something to believe in. Ourselves. Others. A sense of purpose in this world.
Going to the theatre is itself a profound act of faith. The audience hopes for transportation. It might be to a place of pain or pleasure, but we enter the dim theatre as eager supplicants, ready to submit to the will of the company. Ground Floor is typically a safe bet. But in Amy and the Orphans, the presentation and the source material doesn’t quite click.
Playwright Lindsey Ferrentino’s script focuses on the fallout of shattered trust. Ferrentino is in a hot moment – she’s writing the book for the Broadway musical adaptation of Queen of Versailles, with music by Stephen Schwartz and starring Kristin Chenoweth – but her 2018 off-Broadway work offers a tight 100 minutes of despair cut with dark humor. Dual storylines run close to each other before converging, each with their own challenges. Locally, director Maryanna Tollemache packs the cast with talented actors who still struggle with the tonal demands of the work.
Luckily, they’re assisted with pitch-perfect scenic design by Frederick Demps and lighting design by Jaqueline Sindelar. Their work beautifully evokes the sacred nature of theatre. Blank panels line the stage, rising like church windows, backlit by mysterious spots. Retro family photos and commercials are projected during scene changes, and occasional static images reinforce jokes through the show. It’s a gorgeous design, used well throughout the ups and downs of the play. Those images alone reinforce mood shifts, doing some intense and laudable heavy lifting with the plot.
And what a plot it is, dissecting family traumas with surgical precision. It begins with Sarah (Meredith O’Brien) and Bobby (Justin Smith), a married couple on a retreat to save their relationship. They’ve lost faith in each other. That first scene presents the little lies they’ve been telling, the resentments they hold. Ensuing moments throughout the play follow their conversation, mirroring the rise and fall of their anger.
Director Maryanna Tollemache packs the cast with talented actors who still struggle with the tonal demands of the work.
Next comes an awkward airport reunion between siblings Jacob (Adam Donmoyer) and Maggie (Cathie Sheridan). The two hold each other at arm’s length, both wondering how to deal with an intimate stranger, poking and needling in the ways only siblings can. In the wake of their father’s death, they’ve come across the country to deal with the funeral. Oh, and to break the news to their younger sister Amy (Sydney Weigand, a talented and authentic casting choice), who has Down syndrome and lives in a facility in Long Island. When they pick up Amy to travel to the funeral, they’re surprised to learn she must be accompanied by facility nurse Kathy (Giselle De La Rosa), whose very loud, very pregnant presence takes a toll on their imagined reunion.
The ensuing road trip rattles Jacob and Maggie’s faith in their parents. Death does that, especially when siblings reunite and reminisce. It’s hard when memories don’t align. Those who have lost parents will immediately recognize the honesty in their bickering – that tension when two people have the same background, but vastly different experiences.
Ferrentino’s script walks a razor line between high-strung comedy and deep sorrow. It asks actors to sell the humor in dysfunctional family dynamics while also conveying deep wounds, gradually peeling back the comforting shield of sarcasm to reveal an aching heart. Directed by the young Tollemache, the company struggles to control that switch. They hit the gas quick and sharp with both comedy and tragedy, not fully settling into a groove with either. Some castings go completely against the text; it’s difficult to suspend disbelief when the dialogue calls out a character’s physical appearance or age that doesn’t align with the performer in front of you. Little moments like that add up and resist a complete immersion that most audiences long to experience.
When the foundation of a belief system falters, when it cracks and crumbles, a person’s entire life can be left in ruins. Amy and the Orphans portrays those effects through the story alone, and gets close to portraying them on stage. This is not a faith-destroying show for the audience. Instead, it can be seen as a hopeful one. It’s a script worth seeing. And, hopefully, the performance of it will smooth out over time.
Amy and the Orphans
Ground Floor Theatre
Through August 30
This article appears in August 22 • 2025.
