The cast of All Nighter. Photo: Evan Zimmerman for MurphyMade

Dear Natalie,

We’ve never met, so forgive my presumption writing to you (and in a public forum!). But I just saw your new play, All Nighter, and I find myself moved to address you directly.

Part of the fun of going to the theater is that, like Forrest Gump’s box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get. I find most plays fall into the fair to good range, with a sprinkling of great ones and, unfortunately, some real stinkers. Every once in a blue moon, though, I’ll get to experience something transcendent, a play that goes beyond what I’d understood theater can do, that makes me want to urge friends and family to get tickets, and quickly. All Nighter is that kind of play.

I know you know what it’s about (you wrote it, after all). But just in case anyone else reads this very personal communiqué: Four college roommates/best friends meet up to finish their last assignments before graduation. As the night progresses, secrets are revealed, alliances shift, and lives change.

Of course, that summary does nothing to relay the brilliance of your writing. I bow down. So much to admire: The way you subtly, concisely and artfully handle exposition—like when Darcie (Kristine Frøseth) apologizes to Tessa (Alyah Chanelle Scott) for borrowing her special pan, you communicate the economic divide between the two friends. Your ability to capture the contradictory yearnings these cusp-of-adulthood characters feel so palpably to finally be grownups (“When our real lives begin!”) and to remain children forever. Your complex portrayal of friendships, both the good and the bad. Your elegant, complex plotting.

And your dialogue! I’m guessing I’m not going to be the only critic to compare All Nighter to David Mamet’s Glengarry Glen Ross (the plot construction, the rising stakes, the single gender cast, the lurking powder keg of impending doom), but the way you convey so much, so efficiently, with such a distinctive voice, reminds me not so much of Mamet as of Mamet’s impact on American theater. Aspiring playwrights could do worse than to study this script and figure out how you’ve done what you have. (And I suspect they’ll have plenty of opportunities; the play is certain to be performed in colleges from Portland, Maine, to Portland, Oregon.) It’s a fantastic achievement.

Of course, I have to give equal credit to your collaborators, who are also firing on all cylinders, starting with director Jaki Bradley and the cast, all of whom create vivid, believable, textured characters. Kristine Frøseth as Darcie and Havana Rose Liu as Lizzy are so utterly convincing as college seniors feeling all the feelings that I wanted to make sure they have something planned post-graduation. And Julia Lester manages to portray Wilma, who really wants to know what Madonna is doing right now, as overly dramatic without falling into the trap of being overly dramatic herself. More than individual performances, though, Bradley’s actors work as an ensemble. Tellingly, a device that could feel gimmicky, the actors fast-forwarding between scenes, is masterfully executed.

I also want to recognize the design team’s contribution, especially Wilson Chin’s set, which captures the timeless drabness of utilitarian college communal spaces, and Michelle J. Li’s costumes, which help us understand the characters without hitting us over the head. Ben Stanton’s lights and M.L. Dogg’s sound add to the show’s terrific verisimilitude.

Natalie, one thing I’m curious about—did you set out to write a comedy that packs a serious dramatic punch, or was it your intention to write a drama filled with funny moments? Either way, you’ve managed to strike a nice tonal balance. And since so much of the show’s humor comes from your keen observations about college life—like how tightly intertwined love and hate are in adolescent friendships, or the prevalence of hummus—the jokes never distract from the pathos, and vice versa. I was especially taken by the scene where the roommates come together to sing “Wrecking Ball.” There you distilled the contradictions at the play’s heart—the young women’s conflicting desires to get work done and to enjoy their last moments of college, to grow up and to remain children, to be part of the group and to define themselves as individuals. It works so well because of all the work you all have done up to that point.

There’s more I want to say in appreciation of your work, but I don’t want to give too much away. I will say that your central question, which betrayals are acceptable and which are beyond the pale, feels particularly relevant today. And it’s one that I will keep thinking about, I suspect, for a while.

In any case, I wanted to let you know how much I appreciated All Nighter and how excited I am that you and the others who made it are out in the world. I hope the show has a terrific run and a long life and I can’t wait to see what you do next.

Sincerely, Your Fan