WHY: Because the world is collapsing and intrusive thoughts want to win. “Desiree” is hanging up her cape, kicking up her heels and lying down, because as a transplant she has failed to launch her writing career and isn’t going to the beach once a week. She’s “Going Live” to end it all, but first she must write a suicide note, and it needs to be good. Because they might make a movie out of it. Destiny Faith unflinchingly weaves news footage, intense emotional depth, dark humor, well-crafted spoken word and TikTok videos to challenge that Black women aren’t supposed to feel a certain kind of way.
WHY: Because every Angeleno experienced or watched in horror the January 7 Palisades and Eaton Fires. Because Christine Dunford reveals the rawness of loss and the evolution beyond cynicism. Because she takes us on a harrowing journey up and down a one-lane road in the Palisades to PCH while the mountains around her home burned. Because “When you stand with your back to the apocalypse, you can see the beach.” Because tragedy reveals the helpers.
Because Christine crafts a dynamic emotional ride from grabbing her go bag, to waiting down the hill with her dogs for her husband who doubles back to their home to save it from the 40-foot pine tree that will destroy it and the neighbor’s home. Because she blends personal tragedy, moments of comedy, and the required humor and fortitude it takes to battle bubbly insurance adjusters on a mission to delay, deny, and defend.
WHY: Because if you don’t “chronical your life, the world will immortalize you. Because they do not know you.” Because you cannot control how the world sees you, you can only control how you show up in the world. Because the women of history have been written through the male gaze. Because the journey Coco crafted flips the script and centers on the emotional complexity, empathy, and poetic nature of the previously vilified Lady Macbeth.
Because Lady Macbeth’s motivation is solely to protect her family and her ancestral homelands of Fife and Moray from the Machiavellian Duncan, who killed her brother, her father, and her first husband. While pregnant, she marries Duncan’s former general, Macbeth, who has returned to Moray to claim it for his own. Because sometimes love is found in unexpected places. Because even after decades of peace, misfortune ultimately occurs.
WHY: Because Linzy Beltran blows your mind with her fearlessness, candor, and heart at a time when our city needs it most. Because her physical soliloquy – where she glitches in and out of Latino stereotypes, falsities, and cultural behaviors – was mesmerizing and executed with off-kilter precision, power, and authenticity.
Because El Mago holds space with tenderness and fire, daring us to think together about the hard truths without ever losing our joy. Because the way the character transitions through moments is so fluid, it’s hard to tell what’s improvised and what’s choreographed.
Because this was my first clown show, and I left the theatre empowered, not defeated. Because Linzy reminds us in the funniest of ways that now is not the time to turn the other cheek, for we are in exigent times.
[From Linzy – Go Here for local organizations and links to stay informed and get involved]
WHY: Because No is a fully embodied physical piece that pulls you into a guttural experience. Because it makes you question how we engage with our own inner thoughts, how we use our voice, and what it means to stand by what we believe in. Because this isn’t just performance… it’s conviction made tangible.
Because this piece doesn’t fit inside a box. It stands in a category all its own. Because I’ve never seen an artist have such a raw, exquisite relationship with a microphone. Because every gesture is dynamic, intentional, and speaks volumes.
Because the way Annalisa moves through space with awareness and connection is a marvel. Because her fluidity is like a swan, and yet every moment is grounded, deliberate, and unshakable.
Because this is the kind of work that reminds you: Saying no can be a complete sentence, a political act, a reclamation.
WHY: Because this show grabs you by the heartstrings. Because Aditi found a beautiful, clever way to frame vignettes as a TED Talk inviting us to explore the history of women earning the right to drive, while also celebrating girls in tech. Because it’s both educational and emotional, and makes you think about freedom not just who gets it, but what it costs. Because driving isn’t just about movement, it’s about agency and self power.
Because one vignette broke my heart in a way I wasn’t prepared for. Because it reminded me that a woman’s right to leave does not always come easily, and is far too often met with consequence or violence. Because Aditi delivers these truths with care, attention, and deep love.
Because for every revolution and societal shift, there is loss but there is also hope. Because the future always brings change.
WHY:Because Hookin’ for Love is a funtastical dive into what it means to be human. Because Chris Farah is fully locked in as Fancy, and her commitment lets us go on a wild ride of witty banter, hilarious antics, and moments that unexpectedly hit you in the gut. Because it’s not just funny, it’s revealing. Because Fancy makes us laugh while nudging us to examine what we’re missing in each other.
Because in a world of endless scrolling, AI, and digital distractions, we’ve become experts at avoiding intimacy. And Fancy isn’t having it. Because love still matters. Because connection is still worth fighting for. Because Fancy reminds us with sparkle and grit that human interaction is still our most valuable currency.
(You just might catch Fancy next living her best life in New York still hookin’, still lookin’, and always searching for love in all the wrong (and right) places. Visit https://www.instagram.com/chrislfarah/)
WHY: Because what I witnessed was more than a performance—it was a full-body experience. Because the creative use of craft projections, natural elements like water and plants, and layered shadows turned the space into something mystical, something not of this world.
Because the projections by Catalina Nicoletti didn’t just illuminate—they conjured. Creating a world of memory and myth that danced across each of the four acts. Because the choreography of hands, light, water, and space was nothing short of divine.
Because watching Pia suspended in the air, fighting through space, felt radical—especially now, in a time of active global struggle. Because it wasn’t just movement; it was resistance, and it was survival.
Because the sculpture onstage—a magnificent Time Machine or cluster of clocks—was more than set design, it was a portal. It sits onstage like a relic or oracle, vibrating through your solar plexus with a quiet power that doesn’t fade.
Because Pia is utterly in command of her body, using it as an instrument to express a storm of emotions, questions, and longings. Because her performance felt ancient—tribal, ancestral—like something passed down through breath and bone.
Because she gave us a story told not through words, but through presence. Through embodied language. Through silence that spoke volumes. Because this is an amazing artist family that travels around the world to perform.
Because this international gem is in Los Angeles for a short time. Because this is ritual theatre. Because this is the kind of piece that swells through your whole body. Because this show reminds you: not everything about being human can—or should—be spoken.
WHY: Kirsten Vangsness is, quite simply, one of those performers you can’t take your eyes off of. She’s fearless and fragile and bold and breakable, ridiculous and self aware and polished and messy and a positively addictive presence onstage. Whether she’s embodying Tana, a Topanga femininity coach who wants women to embrace their “soft folds,” Aaron, Tana’s sweetly dedicated assistant, or baring all as herself in her deep dive into three particularly destructive dating experiences with men (the whys and hows and morning afters), Kristen is a force. And while her stories are very much her own, they speak to us all.
WHY: Because Cristina’s show is a wonderfully nonlinear comedy that invites you to let go of control and ride the current of her thoughts, quirks, and curiosities. Because she trusts her audience, and in turn, we trust her back. Because she breaks the rules with such ease, you forget they ever existed. Because it’s authentic, wholesome, and yes—experimental, that means you won’t see anything else like it at Fringe. Because there are beautifully human moments when she doesn’t have to say anything at all. Because the tilt of her head, or a single swan-like movement across the space, becomes a performance all its own. Because she takes us on an emotional, very human ride through the inner terrain of fears, anxieties, and quiet worries—but never forgets to remind us that joy, laughter, and love are how we make it through.
Because at the end, just when you think it’s over, Cristina leads the entire audience out the door in a spontaneous Conga. Because yes, it takes a second to realize what’s happening—but when you do, it’s exactly what you need. Because it was wild, warm, and unexpectedly unifying. Because that one shared moment won’t fade from memory anytime soon.
