Bushwick may be synonymous with street art and its thriving DIY scene, but a burgeoning theater movement is quietly taking root in the neighborhood. While Bushwick’s theater scene has long flown under the radar, venues like the recently reopened Bushwick Starr, the avant-garde XIV Theater, the ever-innovative House of Yes, and now the Gracemoon Arts Company are transforming the area into an off-Broadway haven. Gracemoon, which relocated to the neighborhood in June and has already staged three productions, is a particularly exciting addition.
This theater renaissance led me to Gracemoon Arts Center’s latest production, What We’re Up Against, for a review with Bushwick Daily. I attended the November 23rd preview with an open mind and left thoroughly impressed. While the marketing describes the play as a “feminist dromedy,” I found it to be an honest yet cynical exploration of being female in a male-dominated career and the harsh realities of leveraging power in an oppressive patriarchal system. Written by Theresa Rebeck and directed by Michele Lonsdale-Smith, the play delves into the frustrations, compromises, and moral ambiguities women face within oppressive patriarchal systems. While not perfect, the stage play is well worth your time and support. The show makes a great night out on your own or an even better second or third date for those of you who need to freshen up your Hinge dating routine.
The Gracemoon Arts Company itself offers an inviting atmosphere. Its spacious venue, excellent sound design, and intimate setting create the perfect backdrop for the show. Running 90 minutes without an intermission, the production is tightly paced and for the most part engaging. After the performance, attendees are invited to participate in a salon with the cast and crew—a rare opportunity to delve deeper into the themes and creative process behind the play. Located just a one-minute walk from the Morgan L train stop, the venue is surrounded by plenty of dinner and bar options, including our friends at Pinebox Rock Shop, making it easy to continue your night after seeing the show.
If you’re intrigued, I recommend grabbing your tickets now and seeing the play before diving into the spoiler-filled critique that follows. The show premiered to a sold-out crowd on November 29, 2024, and performances continue through December 14, 2025. Tickets and details can be found on the GraceMoon Arts Company’s website. Don’t miss this thought-provoking production, and be sure to return to share your thoughts—or take me to task in the comments—after seeing it.
Synopsis of “What We’re Up Against” by Alec Meeker
What We’re Up Against, written by Theresa Rebeck, Directed by Michele Lonsdale-Smith and performed at the Gracemoon Arts Company, is a Sirkian mellow-drama exploring systemic sexism in a male-dominated company. The play examines workplace dynamics through the experiences of Eliza (Krista Morin), a brilliant but undervalued female architect striving for recognition in an environment rife with misogyny.
Set in a highly competitive architecture firm in the early 1990s, the play delivers a cynical exploration of being female in a male-dominated career and the harsh realities of leveraging power in an oppressive patriarchal system. The play captures a snapshot of office life, where a group of architects struggles under the gun to design a new mall, stymied by their inability to solve a seemingly simple problem: where to place the air ducts.
At the heart of the story is Eliza, a wunderkind architect who has been at the firm for five months. Her extraordinary skills and passion for architecture are evident from the outset, yet the system is stacked against her. Misogynistic male colleagues, Stu (Damon Runyan) and Ben (Augustus Oicle) and a long-tenured female coworker, Janice (Amrit Kaur)—who has survived by conforming to patriarchal norms—dismiss her abilities and deny her opportunities to contribute.
Eliza, frustrated by her exclusion from significant projects despite her talent, confronts Janice, a senior woman in the firm who has succeeded by conforming to the firm’s sexist culture. Janice’s survival tactics, rooted in tolerance and submission, contrast sharply with Eliza’s meritocratic ideals.
As the pressure mounts, Eliza grows weary of the constant obstacles and takes drastic measures. She sabotages Janice by planting flawed architectural plans, which Janice unwittingly presents as her own. This act spirals into further betrayal, ultimately costing Janice her credibility and possibly her job, while Eliza achieves a degree of recognition—albeit at the cost of her integrity.
The play’s characters embody archetypes: Stu as the spineless ally, Ben as the entitled misogynist, Janice as the conformist survivor, and Weber as the detached authority figure. These roles critique the perpetuation of patriarchal systems, highlighting how individual complicity sustains broader inequities.
Through its sharp dialogue, immersive staging, and standout performances—particularly Krista Morin’s portrayal of Eliza and Augustus Oicle’s portrayal of Ben—the play challenges audiences to reflect on the complexities of gender, power, and ambition in professional settings. It leaves viewers questioning the cost of survival in oppressive systems and the persistence of systemic sexism.
The play’s compelling structure, built around a small cast of characters and a condensed timeframe, heightens the intensity of the narrative and underscores the suffocating environment Eliza faces. Rebeck’s script incisively examines the interplay of power, ambition, and gender, while leaving the audience with more questions than answers by the end, and leaving it up to the audience to try to understand what it all means. These hanging questions are by design. After the production all actors, director and audience members are invited to a salon style discussion and question session.
Sexual Harassment and Power Imbalance
The themes of sexual harassment and power imbalance are introduced through key moments, such as the uncomfortable back rub Janice receives from her boss, Stu, and repeated insinuations by male characters that Eliza is likely sleeping with the boss. While these scenes highlight the pervasive sexism within the workplace, they lack follow-through, as neither contributes significantly to the play’s resolution. It would have been compelling to see these issues more fully integrated into the story’s conclusion, perhaps offering a more direct commentary on their consequences within the power dynamics of the firm. That said, the play effectively normalizes these behaviors within its world, presenting them as routine and unexamined—a deliberate and consistent choice that underscores the systemic nature of such issues.
One-Dimensional Characters
Many of the supporting characters are written with limited depth, lacking individual motivations, internal conflicts, or personal arcs. While this one-dimensionality reinforces the overarching theme of a dehumanizing patriarchal system, it also diminishes opportunities for a richer exploration of the characters’ roles within the power structure. A deeper dive into their motivations—whether complicit, self-serving, or reluctantly compliant—could have provided additional nuance, showing how different individuals navigate and perpetuate systemic oppression. This would have enhanced the narrative’s complexity without detracting from its thematic focus.
Character Analysis
The performances were undoubtedly the standout element of this production. Krista Morin delivered a raw, refined, and deeply emotional portrayal that left a lasting impression. If you value the craft of acting, her performance alone makes this show worth seeing. Augustus Oicle also gave a compelling and authentic performance, creating a character that evoked sympathy and frustration in equal measure. His portrayal of a spineless enabler, complicit in and benefiting from the patriarchal system that oppresses the women around him, was both engaging and thought-provoking.
The rest of the ensemble delivered solid performances, maintaining the energy and authenticity of the production. However, the characters were written with limited depth, lacking individual motivations or conflicts. While this one-dimensionality reinforces the overarching theme of the play—the hegemonic and dehumanizing force of patriarchy—it reduces dramatic impact.
The play misses an opportunity to explore the nuanced and often conflicting incentives that allow individuals, both “good” and “bad,” to perpetuate such systems. For instance, we never learn whether other characters aspire to rise within the architecture firm or even care about architecture itself. Incorporating these complexities could have enhanced the narrative, showcasing how people from various levels of society contribute to and sustain this anti-meritocratic structure, while preserving the play’s hegemonic tone.
That said, the lack of internal conflict or backstory for characters beyond the heroine effectively supports the play’s artistic intent and the weight of the message artistic intent was. The distillation of these elements into a broader critique of patriarchal power is impactful, making this a thought-provoking piece of art. I firmly believe the exceptional performances and thematic depth make this play a work of art worth engaging in, that everyone can benefit from engaging with.
Ben (Augustus Oicle)
Ben, a mid-level architect, embodies the “nice guy” archetype whose lack of moral courage and professional competency is both infuriating and illuminating. His failure to support Eliza against workplace repression or ability to solve the air duct issue in the mall serves as a critique of well-meaning but ineffective individuals. Ben represents a broader societal issue: the passive acceptance of injustice. His silence and inaction—while neither malicious nor overtly misogynistic—underscore his complicity in a patriarchal structure. This frustration with Ben’s character effectively amplifies the feminist themes of the play, forcing the audience to confront the ways systemic change is hindered not only by overt antagonists but by those who fail to act. Stu’s ineffectiveness aligns him with the classic “buddy” archetype—oblivious to his privilege and powerless to wield it meaningfully
Eliza (Krista Morin)
Eliza, the heroine, is a richly complex character. Her nonconformity to traditional femininity highlights her outsider status in a patriarchal workplace. A brilliant and competent architect, Eliza’s struggle against systemic bias symbolizes the wasted potential caused by valuing identity over merit. Her journey, however, takes a darker turn as she abandons her principles, resorting to Machiavellian tactics to navigate the system. The ambiguity surrounding her possible use of sexuality to gain recognition adds a provocative layer to her character, challenging traditional feminist narratives. Eliza’s arc reveals the compromises required to survive in an unjust system, serving as a critique of meritocracy’s failure when systemic oppression remains unaddressed.
Weber (Kristopher Turner)
Weber, the firm’s founder, operates as a detached symbol of unassailable power. His minimal presence in the narrative underscores his function as a representation of systemic authority—aloof, untouchable, and indifferent to the dynamics beneath him. His character serves as a reminder of the apex of privilege, where accountability and resistance are irrelevant.
Janice (Amrit Kaur)
Janice epitomizes the third-wave feminist archetype, rejecting the solidarity central to earlier feminist movements. A tough-as-nails corporate climber, she has endured misogyny and harassment, succeeding by playing within the system’s oppressive rules. Her refusal to mentor younger women and her belief that they must “earn” success as she did expose the blind spots of her perspective. Janice’s character reflects the tension between individual survival and collective progress. Her internalized misogyny, tokenized position, and unwillingness to challenge the systemic barriers she endured highlight the limitations of individual achievement as a feminist strategy. Her interactions with Eliza, rife with mistrust and sabotage, underscore the corrosive effects of a system designed to pit women against each other.
Stu (Damon Runyan)
Stu channels the Don Draper archetype—charismatic, successful, and unapologetically misogynistic. His character serves as a reminder of how the patriarchy rewards those who conform to its structures. His complacency, once passive, has hardened into active reinforcement of the system. Stu is a chilling reflection of what happens when individuals prioritize personal success over societal progress, making him an effective symbol of the status quo.
Key Dynamics: Janice and Eliza
The relationship between Janice and Eliza exemplifies the toxic environment created by systemic misogyny. Their lack of solidarity is most evident in the final act, where Janice’s theft of Eliza’s ventilation solution leads to a cascade of betrayals and failures. Eliza’s deliberate sabotage of these plans illustrates her willingness to manipulate the system for her gain, reflecting the harsh survival tactics demanded by oppressive structures. Meanwhile, Janice’s attempt to assert herself among her male colleagues, only to face humiliation, further underscores the play’s commentary on the isolation and tokenization of women in male-dominated spaces. This dynamic poignantly critiques how systems of power foster division rather than unity among women.
Writing
The writing in this production is both intriguing and challenging. While the melodramatic tone may not appeal to everyone, the dialogue is authentically crafted, and the storyline feels refreshingly novel. It’s rare to encounter a feminist narrative that asks the audience to engage deeply and reflect on the events unfolding on stage. However, the conclusion of the play struck me as particularly cynical.
Our heroine, despite being the smartest, most talented, and most passionate character in the play, is ultimately forced to betray her own principles to be taken seriously. After being betrayed herself, she retaliates by undermining the other female character and perhaps even sleeps her way to the top—this is left deliberately ambiguous. What’s striking is that her merit and dedication to architecture, which define her character, are not rewarded even once. Instead, she must resort to political gamesmanship, jeopardizing the firm’s reputation with a major client, and risking her ability to pursue the craft she excels at, all to secure a chance at being taken seriously. The cynicism lies in the fact that this strategy works: by the play’s conclusion, Eliza seemingly achieves her desired position, while Janice is likely fired.
The final line, delivered by Janice—“Why does this keep happening?”—feels out of place. From the audience’s perspective, this is the first instance of such events within the story. As a result, her despair feels disconnected from the narrative. If intended as a fourth-wall-breaking statement directed at the audience to question systemic sexism, the line still falls flat. Without sufficient exploration of the characters’ individual motivations and internal conflicts (particularly among the peripheral characters), the meta-statement lacks impact. This pivotal moment could benefit from revision to better align with the play’s themes and storytelling.
One aspect of the production I found particularly compelling was the open-ended nature of the story, complemented by the post-show discussion. After the performance, the audience is invited to a back room where drinks are served, and the cast and crew engage in dialogue with attendees. This format fosters rich conversation and reflection, perfectly suited to the Sirkian melodrama and the vérité-inspired storytelling. The production raises countless questions, encouraging viewers to grapple with its themes long after the curtain falls.
Even a week after attending, the play continues to resonate with me. It refuses to offer easy answers or a hero who promises that sexism can be resolved simply by standing up for one’s colleagues. Instead, it remains true to life, earnestly exploring the messy realities of systemic oppression. Gracemoon Theater Company’s ethos of finding truth through performance is fully realized in this production. It is engaging, frustrating, existential, and profoundly thought-provoking. I left the theater with more questions than I arrived with—a hallmark of rare, impactful art worth experiencing multiple times.
Staging Setup
The staging was innovative and immersive, with bleachers arranged in four quadrants surrounding the performance space. Three smaller stages were placed along the periphery, while the central area was designed as a conference room complete with an architectural diorama and a projector screen for pitch meetings. This layout created a dynamic theater experience where, regardless of seating, the audience felt engaged. Even from the corner of the room, the action in the farthest quadrant felt voyeuristic but still clear in both sight and sound. When the action moved closer—for instance, to Stu’s office, just a foot or two from my seat—it felt as if I were in the room with the characters, amplifying the intimacy of the performance.
Sound and Lighting
The sound design was exceptional, with immaculate mixing and balance. Every word, even in the quietest, most intimate lines, was audible. Scene transitions were occasionally accompanied by popular 1990s music. While the choice of music reinforced the play’s emotional tone and time period, it didn’t significantly enhance or detract from the overall experience. One notable interlude featured the opening notes of Smells Like Teen Spirit but cut off before the iconic drum breakdown, a choice that mirrored the withheld release of aggression and justice within the story. Just as the song’s intensity is left unrealized, so too is the anticipated catharsis of seeing someone stand up for the heroine—highlighting the reality that change often comes through subtle manipulation rather than overt rebellion. This choice was thematically resonant, reflecting the challenges of confronting entrenched power structures.
A minor sound-related note: the playhouse, located in the basement of a loft building, occasionally picked up the bassline from a rave happening above. While faint and not disruptive to the performance, it’s worth mentioning for future visitors. In true Bushwick fashion, this element added a unique charm to the experience, though improved soundproofing might be worth considering for the venue.
Set Design
The set design was thoughtful and well-executed, striking a balance between authenticity and functionality. Each space felt lived-in and true to its intended setting without obstructing sightlines—no small feat given the bleacher arrangement. The fluid transitions between the four main sets—Stu’s office, the main conference room, Eliza’s cramped closet office, and Janice’s office—felt seamless, as if the sets flowed through the space like a river. This design not only supported the staging’s immersive quality but also ensured that the audience’s perspective was always visually engaging.
Blocking
The blocking of the play was highly effective, contributing to the production’s dynamic pacing. The seamless movement from set to set ensured that no location overstayed its welcome, creating a snappier rhythm that kept the audience engaged. This approach avoided the need for stage crew to rearrange sets between scenes or relying too heavily on a single setting, both of which could have slowed the momentum. Within each scene, the blocking felt natural and realistic while incorporating plenty of movement, adding to the immersive experience.
The blocking is strongest in Stu’s office, a well-detailed set with functional props that were effectively integrated into the action. Stu’s working telephone, mini putting green, desk drawers stocked with Macallan whiskey, a large drafting board, and a lounging sofa all contributed to a sense of authenticity. These elements were not just decorative; they were actively used by the actors, bringing the space to life and enhancing the audience’s immersion.
Conversely, the weakest set in this production was Janice’s office. While the desk, drafting papers, and notes taped to the computer were meticulously detailed, the space lacked the verticality and interactive elements needed to fully engage the audience. The blocking in Janice’s office didn’t make use of the set, resulting in less dynamic staging during her conversations with Eliza. Adding more interactive props or vertical features—such as shelves, taller furniture, or movable elements—could have enhanced the visual appeal and provided opportunities for more dynamic movement. These changes would have elevated the scenes and made them more engaging for viewers seated in the bleachers.
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