Mine, originally written by Russian playwright Anna Evtushenko (PhD ‘24) in her native tongue, is a harrowing exploration of personal collapse and societal decay. Set in the 1990s, the piece has evolved in the shadow of increasing Russian censorship and an ever more destabilized geopolitical climate caused by the Russia-Ukraine conflict, resulting in significant adaptations that speak to contemporary issues while retaining its original bleak sensibility.
The production embraces a distinctly muted visual language. A gray set paired with drab costumes contributes to an atmosphere of pervasive desolation. Even the depiction of technology feels deliberately alien, reinforcing a sense of dislocation. One striking symbolic element that never makes an appearance is the color-changing crocodile, a creature whose shifting appearance is used as an escape from a harsh reality, hinting at the undercurrents of oppression and the longing for liberation.
A web of volatile relationships populates the play’s narrative. The toxic dynamic between Nick and Ally, marked by controlling behavior and harsh language, sets the stage for much of the tension. In contrast, moments of tenderness and vulnerability surface in other interactions: Ally’s dependency on Diane, who in a dramatic “mom bomb” moment repositions herself as both mentor and surrogate daughter figure, and Max’s conflicted arrival as the man Ally once had an affair with.
Notably, while several performances suffer from uneven delivery and pacing — often hindered by a lack of clear beats — the actor portraying Nick, Owen Reynolds (Barch ‘26), stands out. His method, honed by extensive character journaling and participation in an “Acting Bad” workshop, offers a nuanced interpretation of a man whose crumbling life and personal betrayals drive him to desperate measures.
Director Anna’s vision is evident throughout the production. Influenced by the stark minimalism of Russian theater, Harold Pinter and the expressionist directorial style of Jamie Lloyd, she sought to create a layered narrative where personal and political grievances intertwine. The play deftly touches on subjects such as domestic abuse, infidelity, the ambiguity of paternity in the midst of chaos and the oppressive atmosphere of contemporary Russia, all while using lights and imagery. For instance, the rubble of a bombed apartment in Ukraine and a “rootless” apartment shown via Google Maps to underscore the erosion of stability are shown in key moments.
Following the screening, a Q&A session provided valuable context. Owen shared insights into his process, revealing that his character’s descent was fueled by the collapse of a once-familiar life and the betrayal of his wife. These personal revelations enriched the audience’s understanding of the convoluted character dynamics, even as other aspects, like the uneven delivery of dialogue, left viewers in contemplation.
Mine is an ambitious work that grapples with heavy themes through a mixture of stark visual design and disjointed yet potent performances. Serving as an intricate narrative of abuse, betrayal and hope, the raw ambition and timely political subtext resonate strongly with audiences. In an environment where anti-war content is both risky and necessary, the play stands as a testament to the enduring power of theater to reflect and challenge our troubled realities.
Katie Kim is a freshman in the College of Arts and Sciences. She can be reached at sk2673@cornell.edu.
