Reviewed by Socks Whitmore
Coin & Ghost, After Hours Theatre Company, & Outside In Theatre
Through March 10, 2026
Cole Massie and Carene Rose Mekertichyan (Mallury Patrick Pollard Photography)
RECOMMENDED
“How far would you go to protect the ones you love?” At Outside In Theatre’s ArtSpace, theatergoers are asked to ponder this question as they prepare to experience John Guerra’s new play, Room by the Sea: a radical retelling of tales from Greek mythology that examines the relationship between love, fear, safety, and control.
Set on the island of Crete, a boy in a wheelchair dreams of flight while his architect father works on a secret project for the king in hopes of finally lifting himself and his son out of poverty. In the shadows, the king’s daughter searches desperately for the truth about her father’s plans for her beloved half-brother.
Even before the play begins, the design elements immerse the audience in the motifs of the script: birds and the sea, light and shadow, freedom and confinement. When the house opens, audience members must traverse through a corridor lined with thin paper and wooden cutouts in the shapes of sea creatures, oars, and waves, while some of the actors exist fervently in their own world.
Greek mythology enthusiasts will quickly recognize the characters of Room by the Sea to be Icarus, Daedalus, Ariadne, and King Minos of Crete, though a number of details to their stories have been significantly altered. This iteration takes place during the Plague of Athens, recasting Daedalus and Icarus as refugees who were exiled because of Icarus’s disability and who washed up on the shores of Crete after barely surviving the quarantine boats. The dream of wings shared by Icarus and Ariadne is a metaphor for a desire for independence and the ability to see the world on one’s on terms. Theseus of legend has no place in this version of the tale, but his absence is unobtrusive. More noticeable, however, is the invisible nature of Ariadne’s brother Asterius — the subject of many conversations but never physically present or even fully depicted on stage. This makes for an interesting parallel to real-world realities for disabled individuals with cognitive and motor differences, whose fates are often decided without their consent in response to symptoms they are unable to control or sometimes even understand.
The play’s dialogue has a storybook simplicity but with a mythical grandiosity that lends itself well to theatrical sensibilities. At several moments, the king and princess seem to step outside of time in slow, dance-like movements; Brian Hashimoto’s direction makes good use of negative space, juxtaposing motion with stillness and intensity with calm. A musical score by composer Cooper Baldwin activates the space beautifully throughout. The focus and deliberation in this slowness is potent in moderation, though at times the audience may feel an itch to pick up the pace; the script could potentially benefit from inserting contrasts in tempo or making a tactful trim.
Mark Kanieff’s abstracted set design features several large geometric wooden structures that transform from an inventor’s workshop to a hot greenhouse with exotic “plants” carved from blocks of wood. In the background, a fence of tall, thin spikes bears a few elaborate birdhouses resembling rickety mansions. The boy’s wheelchair is fitted with fabric and leathery accents to give it a handmade, 430 BC quality. This smart use of shapes and materials captures a feeling of left brain logic and right brain creativity in conversation, emblematic of the architect’s genius. Chu-hsuan Chang’s lighting design plays with shadow puppetry and motion throughout, underscoring the themes of light and dark. Shadow play is also used to represent the wings of Icarus and Ariadne’s dreams, a cleverly low-tech approach to mythical staging that balances material and imagination.
The relationship between Icarus and Ariadne is a particularly interesting take on the ancient myth. Referred to in the script and captions only as “Boy” and “Girl,” this pair forms an unlikely friendship after Ariadne’s quest to uncover her father’s plans leads her to find Icarus in Daedalus’s workshop. Though she makes less than a good impression and frequently underestimates Icarus, these two lonely young people become allies. One of the things that makes this play an especially good representation of disability is its unpresumptuous humanization of disabled characters; in one charming moment, Daedalus makes a joke about a possible romance between the two that serves as a subtle, yet powerful gesture to indicate that disabled people can (and DO) find love. Far too often, disabled characters are a-romanticized, disenfranchised, and resigned to use as a symbolic device, but here, the Boy is an active agent in his fate who takes a stand against the immorality of happiness bought at other’s expense and challenges his own father to consider the responsible use of human skill. By the end of the play, both he and the Girl come to understand the difference between running away and running towards something. Cole Massie’s performance as the Boy is expressive, sincere, and delightful to watch.
Something else that’s unusual about this production is the number of producing companies behind it. Room by the Sea is a triple threat collaboration from the teams at Outside In Theatre, Coin & Ghost, and After Hours Theatre Company. Though it’s generally rare to see this kind of three-way creative partnership between theater organizations, in many ways this particular meeting of the minds makes perfect sense; each member of the collective shares a commitment to adventurous, intersectional, story-driven new works. The voice of each artistic arm is clearly present yet seamlessly blended into one experience, and the success of this integration bodes well for the possibility of future cross-organizational alliances.
Guerra’s play was first conceived in 2010 and received further development during a residency at A Noise Within in 2018-19 before being shelved during quarantine in 2020. When it was finally picked up again, it took the producers two years of searching Los Angele venues for a backstage suitably accessible to an actor in a wheelchair before discovering Outside In’s ArtSpace theater in Highland Park. The building was designed with access in mind and opened for performances just last September, with Room by the Sea marking the fourth production on the ArtSpace stage.
Accessibility and disability are at the heart of this collaborative production from start to finish. Access dramaturgs Lee Rosen and Dean Grosbard were invited into the process early to anchor the script’s development, design choices, and rehearsal process in disability aesthetics and accessible practices. It’s not uncommon for disabled characters to be played by able-bodied actors, but in this production the role of the Boy is performed and understudied by actual wheelchair users. Every performance offers projected captions and audio description devices for the audience, and the program is available in both print and audio format. The play’s run is also complemented by a small exhibit of mobility aid artworks by visual artist A. Laura Brody from her ongoing project Opulent Mobility, which aims to imagine “a world where disability is celebrated instead of denied, ignored, and feared.”
Opportunities for disabled actors can be painfully sparse and access to performance spaces can be frustratingly limited, but at Outside In’s ArtSpace, a place is being carved out for disabled joy. As someone with a mobility aid, it is truly heartwarming to spend time in the presence of so many other wheelchair and cane users, and feel how intentionally the team has invested their energies into lifting up access in and around the play. This production of Room by the Sea is a thoughtful tribute to accessible foundations and disabled dreams, and may just pave the way for industry innovation in meaningful inclusion.
Outside In Theatre’s ArtSpace, 5317 York Blvd, Highland Park. Fri.-Sat., 8 pm, Sun., 3 pm; thru Mar. 10. https://outsideintheatre.org/room-by-the-sea/ Runtime: two hours with one 15-minute intermission.
