Stage Review - A Mirror (Thalia’s Umbrella)

Stage Review - A Mirror
Presented By: Thalia’s Umbrella - Seattle, WA
Show Run: February 26 - March 14, 2026
Date Reviewed: Thursday, February 26, 2026 (Preview Night)
Run Time: 2 Hours, 40 Minutes (including a 15-minute intermission)
Reviewed by: Anna Tatelman

Does or should art mirror reality? Can making or showcasing art be an act of resistance? How can you produce art that resonates when it also must project the vision that a person or ruling body with the power to kill you demands? What is our obligation as humans to our nation, to one another, to truth, to ourselves? Does good art involve either the sublimation or elevation of the person making that art?

These are just a few of the questions that I’m still thinking about a week after seeing the preview performance of Thalia’s Umbrella’s production of A Mirror. I wasn’t processing these thoughts consciously while at the show, too absorbed in what was happening on stage, which to me is the mark of the best kind of theatre: the kind that immerses you in its universe for a few hours, then keeps tugging you back in even after you’ve left the performance space.

It’s hard to describe playwright Sam Holcroft’s A Mirror without diving into spoiler territory. I’m going to do my best not to reveal too much so you can bask in this well-crafted, twist-filled script and production yourself. That said, as a reviewer, I do need to offer more intel than the play’s standard synopsis, so there are some spoilers ahead.

A Mirror is essentially a play-within-a-play. The given premise is that we, the audience, are attending a wedding. When we arrive at Thalia’s Umbrella’s production, we’re greeted by a wedding usher and asked if we’re there in support of the bride or the groom. Depending on the answer, you’ll be ushered to either the right or left seating sections.

As the wedding officiant welcomes us to the ceremony and begins the vows, the house lights remain on. A couple minutes into this, a uniformed individual stands up from the audience and exits the theatre. After the doors close behind them, the wedding usher shouts “all clear.” While the house lights go dim, we are informed the play we are about to see is being put on “without a license from the ministry.”

On that mysterious and mildly omnious note, the play-within-a-play of A Mirror begins. It centers on Adem, a young man who has just written his first play and submitted it to “The Ministry of Culture” for approval. Although the ministry official Celik finds Adem’s play profane and potentially in violation of their nation’s censorship laws, Celik nonetheless finds Adem a promising writer and wants to help Adem’s career flourish. Celik, along with his assistant Mei, begin to meet with Adem regularly to read his plays aloud and discuss craft topics like narrative, truth, and (though often dancing around the topic) what subjects the Ministry will “approve” of Adem writing about in the future. Celik also introduces Adem to Bax, a playwright who Celik helped become more publicly beloved and widely produced.

The show transitions between these two plotlines throughout; directors Terry Edward Moore and Daniel Wilson handle these shifts deftly. There are multiple moments of thrilling organized chaos as we revert from one plot to another: tablecloths get removed or thrown across surfaces, furniture rearranged, wedding attire removed or restored, house lights either plunging the audience back into the familiar theatrical space of darkness or involving us once more in some sort of public deception that we don’t (initially) fully comprehend. Theatrical transitions, normally a thing that production companies try to do with as little fuss as possible, are here made into mini scenes unto themselves as we puzzle over why these performers are going through so much trouble just to (it seems) entertain us with a show.

All of these twists and nuances require nimble performers, and this eight-person ensemble is more than up to the task. Adam Tapp as Adem is genuine and matter-of-fact, eager to share the truth through his art. Initially oblivious to the precarious situation he finds himself in because of what he sees as this simple desire, it’s heartbreaking to watch him grapple with his new reality; the scene transition where Tapp gazes blankly at the audience while stagehands shuffle furniture and perform his costume change is outstanding. Emily Verla plays Mei, a new employee at the Ministry of Culture and formerly a soldier. Verla also captures impressive, nuanced transitions for her character; Mei is reserved and military-esque in her behavior, spine straight whether she’s sitting or standing, and her interactions with others are just as formal. Gradually, as she warms up to those around her, she becomes more interested in forging interpersonal connections and sharing tidbits about herself.

Bax (performed by Jon Lutyens), the established playwright, is by contrast more casual than Mei in both posture and interactions, slouching across the stage or sitting backwards in his chair. Lutyens’ temperament contrasts well with Tapp’s; Lutyen is more on edge throughout the play, frazzled by the tension between his public popularity and the increasingly banal quality of his art. Quinlan Corbett, who plays the ministry official Celik, gives us the best kind of antagonist: someone who truly believes in not just the logic of their actions, but the justice underlying it. He is so steadfast in his conviction that systems must be remade from within – that talented artists with a subversive edge can be remade into artists just slightly edgy enough to be interesting while still bolstering civic pride – that it’s easy at times to get caught up in his fervor.

The production design for this Thalia’s Umbrella show is, across the board, excellent. The set design features walls that appear gently aged, with small cracks and paint chips, as if we really are inside a chapel for a wedding (set design by Walter Kilmer). The costumes are mostly made from shades of browns and grays, formal without being overly dressy; although Bax’s colorful personality earns him a slightly more dynamic outfit with a patterned shirt, he too dresses with a monochromatic scheme. Jae Hee Kim’s costume design enhances this sense that we’re all inside a universe where individual expression has become rarer. This production also features original sound and song compositions by Lucy Peckham, which range from cheerful wedding tunes to more discordant and haunting melodies.

Thalia’s Umbrella’s current production is like a delightful giant puzzle, one where even the audience members are jumbled-up pieces, that we get to help artfully piece together in real time. The play fearlessly asks questions about its own vulnerability, politics, artistry, responsibility, and reality while interrogating ours. Between A Mirror’s insightful direction, actors that perform fluidly as both an ensemble and individuals, and top-tier design elements, this show will likely be one of the best from this season.

A Mirror, presented by Thalia’s Umbrella, runs on stage at 12th Avenue Arts through March 14. For more information, including ticket availability and sales, visit https://www.thaliasumbrella.org/.

Photo credit: Annabel Clark