By HANNAH WING-BONICA

Peep show. Stuffed animals. Fortune cookies. Witch. Femur.

These are a few of the words spoken by Alida, a writer of a fairytale at the beginning of off the WALL’s production of Breadcrumbs, written by Jennifer Haley. The words are written on sticky notes to help her remember and connect memories, but the full meaning of these words isn’t known until the end. In this play, words are essentially breadcrumbs, and Alida (Virginia Wall Gruenert) is like Gretchel from the well-known German fairy tale, who is lost in the metaphorical woods after being diagnosed with dementia. Off the WALL’s production of Breadcrumbs, directed by Ingrid Sonnichsen, is an intriguing play that centers on relationships among women and on time and memory. 

Alida’s diagnosis is handed to her by a nurse, Beth (Ericka Cuenca), who is very interested in Alida’s stories. Beth is a young woman who hasn’t quite found what she wants to do with her life, as she has bounced between different jobs and boyfriends. Beth offers to help Alida write an autobiography, and Alida reluctantly agrees. The two women have little in common, and their personalities often clash. But, they somehow manage to work together on a book, even if their relationship is built on this bubbling lack of trust. In a two-person show, actors need to create a sense of a dynamic relationship between the characters. Otherwise, the relationship doesn’t evolve over the course of the play. Alida is constantly guarded around Beth, and it is hard to believe that Alida would want to trust her so quickly. 

Unfortunately, Haley’s script doesn’t offer many scenes where Beth and Alida take a moment to really connect. But when these moments do happen, Gruehert and Cuenca both shine in unexpected ways. Beth’s assignment to find the etymology of certain words, such as femur and witch, is one such example. The stubbornness of Gruehert’s Alida, who prefers a physical encyclopedia, paired with Cuenca’s tech-savvy Beth, creates a humorous yet relatable generational tension. 

The most interesting relationship isn’t between Beth and Alida, but rather between Alida and her mother, which is shown as short scenes of insight into Alida’s long-term memories. The scenes in which Gruehert plays Alida as a child, and Cuenca plays Alida’s mother, are fascinating because both actresses create a believable mother-daughter dynamic. Alida is constantly traveling with her mother, and her mother is always seeking the company of men. Gruehert portrays the witty and stubborn younger version of Alida with such ease, and Cuenca’s Mother commands the stage with her wannabe movie star vibes. There is a push-and-pull in these scenes between Gruehert and Cuenca, and they play off each other so well. Alida is tired of traveling, and Mother tries to console her, saying she is doing what is best for them, even if that means moving to a different state. 

Haley’s script, along with Sonnichsen’s direction, gives the audience some sense of what it is like to have dementia. Interestingly enough, the word “dementia” is never used in the play. However, Alida’s lack of memory and sense of time is strongly suggestive of the symptoms of dementia. Time isn’t made clear in the show, which echoes Alida’s loss of her sense of time as her dementia progresses. It is not known when the play takes place, how long Alida and Beth work together, or what time of day each scene takes place. The play switches between the present day and Alida’s memories of her mother. The play also manipulates Alida’s memories so that events occur offstage, and the only person aware of what truly happens is Beth. Like Alida, the audience begins to question Beth throughout the play. 

The lighting, designed by Juliette Louise, and the projections by Owen Hindley distort reality, reflecting the changes in Alida’s state of mind as her dementia progresses. The set is arranged to amplify Alida’s sense of being lost. Shadows of trees swirl and stretch on a sheer white curtain covered in sticky notes. Papers are piled onto a table and scattered on the floor. The original music and sound design by Icelandic composer Iris Thorarins create an ethereal, haunting dissonance, adding significantly to the emotional weight of what Alida is going through. 

Sonnichsen creates a space where Alida’s story is told with great care. Breadcrumbs avoids stereotyping Alida as a fragile, older woman, and Beth isn’t just a caregiver. Instead, Alida is a strong, independent woman who learns that she doesn’t have to be alone in the woods, and Beth finds her own voice. Yes, the story is sad, but it isn’t devastating. There is hope in its circular storytelling as you again hear familiar words from Alida’s life–one last time. 

Breadcrumbs is off the WALL’s last production at Carnegie Stage, and it is a play worth seeing for anyone who has had an Alida in their lives. 

TICKETS AND DETAILS

Carnegie Stage’s production of Breadcrumbs has remaining performances on April 12 & 16-18, 2026. Tickets are available st: https://www.ticketor.com/carnegiestage/tickets/breadcrumbs-348812#buy

Categories: Arts and Ideas

Tags: Breadcrumbs, Carnegie Stage