“This love will be the death of me” Hermione wrote. We’re doing Hermione and Snape fan fiction on an outdated laptop. Teenage-level fantasies coming from a twenty-something woman. Normal or crazy? 

Sonia, played by Rebeca Robles, welcomes us to the poignant Chekhov home by reading out her internet activity and dancing around to beats of the 2010s, despite this play’s word-of-god admission to being post-Covid. This monologue was an interesting tactic to conquer the challenge of making someone’s browsing history interesting enough to perform. 

Robles has chops and deserves praise for this unique character performance. Though her hair fell out of place a few times, her energy made the character special. It was interesting how Sonia quickly dismisses, “I’m not saying I’m ugly” when that was a big character trait of Chekov’s Sonia to talk down on her looks. By just adding a shred of ego to the girl, the character’s motivations changed completely. 

Sonia recites a message to her late mother, informing her that it’s “her birthday on earth.” Playwright what’s her face nails the emotional gravity and time period  early on with playful digital communication in a heartfelt scene.  

“I promise I’m taking care of your garden,” Robles says endearingly, the garden currently choking in smoke outside the house’s walls. She reveals that her job is tough because the faculty is “weird,” and reminds her mom, “ I remember you.”

Erin and the Professor are very odd long-lost colleagues. If a setting is in the age of Instagram, these two sharing a mailed wedding announcement seems unlikely and more must be insinuated of their relationship. 

“Nihilism is very au courant for their generation,” says the professor about the youth of today that he sees in his classrooms. Also about Erica.
Au courant (def.): Aware of what is going on; well informed.

The table speaks on the “radical acceptance” the younger generation holds, capable of bearing witness to more information than ever before possible and remaining steadfast in the pursuit of their goals. 

Au courant (alt. def.): Fashionable. 

“I thought we were safe from all this, little land locked Ohio,” bemoans the household as wildfires overtake the state. The pampas (read: pompous) grass looks really nice on stage, and the silhouette with the back lighting is pretty. 

John enters, talking about, “All work has value.” 

Warren Live Haney’s portrayal of the Uncle Vayna-esque loser manchild fits into this time period perfectly. A Trader Joe’s employee and white-undershirt-and-jeans son, he’s aloof, generally pessimistic and really adds nothing but snark to most conversations. 

“What if everything just works out for us, dude?” the King Baby asks, embodying the blind confidence that plagues the modern man. The “red-pill” problem is tackled in a way that reflects centuries old misogyny. This character is a fun lens to use to peer back into time and how those issues are evolved and yet remain the exact same. John’s entitlement causes unnecessary and unearned friction between the characters. 

Step-mother Elaina enters, out-dazzling the entire cast thus far. Loved ACTORS costuming here, she stood out and still felt of-the-time.

The dining room table is clever staging, and the lighting warms the space with familial comfort and ambiance. The lilies that step-mother brought home, looming over them. Lilies are a funeral flower, but they act like it’s a congratulatory flower, which is odd of them. 

The table starts to feel smaller with the crowding of egos. Polite arguments about the state of the world and our role in it all surge. The dinner conversation broils and catches fire, Sonia erupting in a neurotic outburst. 

Erin’s book is entitled, “Against Hope,” which is just bleak. She propositions, “Hope as a reward for taking a particular action.”

It was a cute choice to have the actors clear the table as a family. A bed rolls out of the opposite wings; in it, the Professor and Elaina. He’s worried about the bones in the house, unlike Elaina who’s worried about the bone in the bed. It’s an intense marital squabble, lots of big issues around pain, money and unfulfilled dreams. 

Elaina is struggling with some pretty uncomfortable unrequited love between her and John, her loser stepson. She’s so unhinged and he’s so insufferable. They have confusing boundaries but good chemistry. Erin is freaking out about her parents and their mishandled “disaster caravan” to escape the fires. 

It’s all too trite to have the gravity Chekov requires, the modern age doesn’t stand up. Despite the parallels, overall the stakes seem very low, which is why I imagine PLAYWRIGHT created the stakes of there being an all-consuming fire just outside. What’s going on in the house may seem tame by today’s standards of salaciousness, but ultimately doom is impending. 

A beautiful fire effect occurs onstage while Sonia goes neurotic again. Over the course of the show, she’s been unraveling, making the audience realize that the teenage fantasies from earlier were, indeed, indicative of an unstable young woman. The house, still haunted by photos of their late mother, empties out as everyone flees the fire and each other, leaving Sonia alone with herself. 

A respectable performance and quirky adaptation, Fires, Ohio was a modern soap opera. THEATER’s staging was impressive and memorable, as were the cast performances.