Evan Strand and Ashley Griffin (Photo by Matt Kamimura)
Reviewed by Madison Mellon
Hudson Backstage Theatre
Through August 31
In a time when conversations around intimacy and trauma are evolving rapidly, The Opposite of Love speaks to our increasingly isolated and transactional modern world. Written by and starring Ashley Griffin, this two-hander, now playing at the Hudson Guild Theatre, dissects and criticizes many of the expectations surrounding modern relationships. The premise is intriguing and the performances are strong; unfortunately, the play ultimately stumbles, leaning heavily on twists and surprise to the detriment of its nuanced themes.
The show centers on Will (Evan Strand) and Eloise (Ashley Griffin). Eloise, struggling with intimacy and sex, is clearly carrying the scars of unresolved trauma. She hires Will, a sex worker, who makes a surprising offer: He’ll return to see her once a week until she feels ready to be physical again. This odd, open-ended arrangement becomes the catalyst for a deepening relationship, one built on awkward honesty and flickers of trust. It’s an effective setup that allows for a naturally evolving connection and rapport between the two characters.
Both actors deliver grounded and engaging performances. Griffin brings a tense, intelligent fragility to Eloise, while Strand is disarmingly charming as Will. Their chemistry is believable, even given the strange circumstances of their arrangement. This helps carry the piece as the characters increasingly open up to each other and learn about their respective pasts and the circumstances that brought them to where they are now.
At its best, The Opposite of Love raises compelling questions. Why do some people seek intimacy as a salve for trauma, while others flee from it in fear? How do societal expectations and gender roles inhibit emotional honesty? How do dating apps and the increasing digitization of the world impact people’s ability to form meaningful connections? These questions surface organically through the characters’ evolving dynamic.
There is some unevenness to the narrative structure: it’s not entirely clear what compels Will to make his arrangement with Eloise after their strained first encounter, nor is it quite believable that he starts divulging personal stories to her so quickly. The writing also does occasionally opt for broad strokes where there could be more nuance (such as Eloise bluntly stating the thesis that her trauma made her run away from sex while Will’s made him run towards it). However, the play tackles its difficult themes with care and is unafraid to confront challenging topics that are too often avoided elsewhere.
The play’s biggest misstep, though, comes towards the end. Without giving too much away, the ending pivots into what feels like a forced twist: a sudden recontextualization of everything we’ve seen. Eloise’s motivations are revealed to be different than what the audience has been led to believe, but the play gives us little emotional groundwork to support this turn. Rather than peeling back layers to expose a deeper, more tragic truth, Eloise’s character transformation feels abrupt, as though she has just been replaced by an entirely separate character. What could have been a subtle meditation on manipulation, trauma, and the pain of misaligned intentions instead plays like a sleight of hand.
There’s no question that The Opposite of Love is built on rich, relevant material, and Griffin’s script brims with thoughtful moments and provocative insights. But by placing shock value above emotional continuity, the play ultimately undermines its own themes. A great twist invites the audience to reexamine everything that came before with new clarity; this one, unfortunately, feels disconnected from the characters the audience has come to know and the relationship that has unfolded.
Hudson Backstage Theatre, 6539 Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood. Thurs.-Sat., 7:30 pm, Sun., 4 pm; thru Aug. 31. https://www.onstage411.com/newsite/show/play_info.asp?show_id=7383&skin_show_id=32.7383 Running time: 100 minutes with no intermission.
