Whim’s 9th year of Alphabet Soup is another round of LGBTQ+ playwrights wrangling intimacy and immediacy
Photo by Janetta Leigh
Personally, I think I’ve simply run out of introductory paragraphs to throw the parades required to kick off pieces about how much KC theater is absolutely tearing it up right now.
If you aren’t getting out to one of the nearly dozen playhouses putting up quality, incredible, vital work right now, you’re letting yourself down—and our patron Dionysus/Bacchus depending on your beliefs. Each week, I’m getting the opportunity to catch new or re-imagined works, crafted and brought to life by my friends and neighbors, and it is all borderline annoying in the level of talent on display. I’m complaining just this once here, before I write a second theater review today for an equally good show, but just keep our Theater category pinned to your toolbar, so you don’t miss these opportunities.
Photo by Janetta Leigh
The city is doing stage shit on a level you cannot fathom, and these seats are not sold out. What gives? Fix it, folks.
Anyhowdy. Whim Productions. They always do great work, they continue doing great work, today’s show does not stray from that category. As an LGBTQ+ built and creatively focused company, they’ve always been committed to getting new, diverse, and often even divisive voices and faces up into their spotlight. Annually, the easiest way to try the sampler platter of what they’ve got going in comes from the Alphabet Soup: Theater from Queer Voices run—an evening of short/one-acts that always sweeps the spectrum of genres, issues, tones, and talent. It’s a concentrated, calculated hit of material that always delivers fresh, and increasingly has substance that is vital—even when the work is sliding on the surface into the silly.
Which is perhaps the most delicate element of this balancing act?
If you’re putting together a bunch of personal portraits from life in the queer community among creators in the Midwest—more so than ever—it would seem inescapable for this to turn into a spiral into trauma, fear, othering, and even rage. That most works here radiate queer joy, but can still keep a core weighted in the reality of our moment, is an impressive feat.
Without spoiling twists or turns in a set of very short narratives, here’s a rundown of what’s on the menu for the 9th annual Alphabet Soup:
All the Stars in Cygnus by Zo E. Schmidt (they/them): Love and mortality collide in this poignant farewell as Val grapples with Kitty’s refusal to embrace eternity.
Oversteeped Tea by B. Michael McFarland (he/him) – What are the consequences of our actions? An estranged brother and sister find out over afternoon tea.
The High Who Spied Me by John Adams (he/him): A top-secret agent is sent to America to retrieve a stolen nuclear missile — but finds something even more explosive.
Pride and Precipice by Camilo Fontecilla (he/him): A mountain hike tests all the limits of Willow and Bree’s relationship
Futureproof by Courtney Honors (they/her): Only hours after meeting, two women—one a serial monogamist and the other a doomsday prepper—rush into a relationship and try to make it work despite the looming threat of an armageddon.
The Space Where We Met by Kevin King (he/him): On the eve of their 10-year high school reunion, Charlie and Melissa have surprising realizations about each other. Turns out, ten years can change everything, including what you think you know.
Photo by Janetta Leigh
As mentioned, most of these shorts featured ranges of joy and comedy from the rom-com to the deliberately awkward to the cartoonishly delightful. All committed to a throughline that saw our protagonists grappling with not only their standing in the world, but the deviations between who they knew themselves to be and what others expected of them—or even the joy/terror or falling into stereotypes.
Of particular highlight, Futureproof’s blend of Fallout and The L Word into a bridge between two women whose situation has skipped all the foundational elements to comedic effect is going to stick with me for years to come—especially the ability to combat both serious and social misalignments with incredibly fucking funny flair. Erstwhile, Oversteeped Tea was the most viscerally unpleasant outing of the evening (intentionally) and, in what could have felt in lesser hands like a long over-sharing Facebook rant, slowly revealed a very Midwest-specific pain, as even “loving’-presenting family members can avoid reckoning with a presidential vote that may marr their relationships permanently.
During our show, Whim announced an upcoming season featuring more new play incubation and an upcoming 10th anniversary of Alphabet Soup featuring highlights from the last decade of shorts. Consider our tickets for that as ‘already purchased.’
Alphabet Soup runs through April 13, 2025. Tickets are available here.
