A theater critic’s perspective and inventory of what we need to be seeing that we're not
For as long as I can remember, conversations about representation in theater have focused on casting ~ specifically, about casting actors who share the identity of the characters they portray. It’s a discussion that spans issues of representation, respect, and authenticity, invoking terms like "yellowface" and "whitewashing." As a former actor in community theatre and, for the last ten years, as BroadwayWorld’s Senior Contributing Editor and lead theatre critic in the Phoenix Metro area, I’ve weighed in on this issue from time to time ~ because I believe its resolution is vital to the future of theatre. So, here I go again.
While casting practices have evolved (albeit, too slowly and not enough), it seems to me that a more fundamental issue remains largely unaddressed: that the selection of plays remains strikingly homogeneous, especially on Broadway and in regional theaters.
In response, a range of influential voices within the theater community has called for a more profound shift: moving beyond casting adjustments to fundamentally reframe the selection of plays themselves. It was John Leguizamo’s recent interview with New York Times arts and culture reporter, Annie Aguiar, that caught my attention and prompted me to dive into the issue again.
The acclaimed actor and playwright called for an urgent overhaul in how theater represents Latino voices. “Latino representation in the theater world is abysmal,” Leguizamo stated, explaining why he has written The Other Americans (currently at the Fichandler Stage in Washington, D.C. through November 24th) ~ a work about a Colombian laundromat owner in Queens, struggling to “survive the American dream.” “Let us challenge our theaters to embrace these stories, to dare to present works that are as culturally vibrant as the actors who bring them to life. By doing so, we honor the immense diversity of human experience and move closer to a theater world where representation and storytelling aren’t just buzzwords, but a vibrant reality that captivates, educates, and inspires us all.”
Leguizamo is not alone in his advocacy. His perspective underscores a shift that a generation of theater-makers has called for ~ that for real change to happen, we need to focus on what is produced as much as who is cast.
The lack of culturally rich, diverse stories being staged ~ especially on Broadway and in regional theaters (check out your local playbills!) ~ limits the opportunities for actors from underrepresented backgrounds to portray characters with a depth and authenticity that resonates beyond simple representation.
This conversation is by no means new.
Like Leguizamo, prominent playwrights like August Wilson, David Henry Hwang, and Lynn Nottage have long argued that authentic representation starts with the stories we choose to tell.
Wilson, known for his Pittsburgh Cycle, argued passionately for Black-centered stories and Black-run theaters, where Black experiences could be explored authentically. In a now-famous 1997 public debate with critic Robert Brustein at New York's Town Hall Theatre, Wilson defended the need for Black-specific theaters, asserting that only when Black stories are created by and for Black people can the work resonate with cultural truth and depth. Here, in Phoenix, The Black Theatre Troupe exemplifies this commitment.
In addition to Wilson, there are other groundbreaking playwrights who have championed authentic portrayals of Black life. Amiri Baraka addresses the psychological toll of racial oppression with Dutchman. Suzan-Lori Parks, the first Black woman to win the Pulitzer Prize for Drama, probes identity and survival in her plays Topdog/Underdog and In the Blood. Her work explores how poverty and race intersect with the American experience. Katori Hall has made her mark with plays like The Mountaintop, a reimagining of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s last night, and Hurt Village, dealing with the struggles of Blacks in the South. Likewise, Dominique Morisseau’s Detroit Project trilogy ~ Detroit '67, Skeleton Crew, and Paradise Blue ~ set against the backdrop of the city’s industrial decline, depict the trials of Black communities. Tarell Alvin McCraney combines African mythology and Southern Black culture in his Brother/Sister Plays trilogy (In the Red and Brown Water, The Brothers Size, and Marcus; or the Secret of Sweet). Finally, Anna Deavere Smith, a pioneer of documentary theater, captures the diversity of Black experiences through her pioneering work in verbatim theatre ~ Fires in the Mirror and Twilight: Los Angeles, 1992.
Broadening our perspectives in this area also requires that we look beyond our borders.
For example, African plays and playwrights offer powerful explorations of post-colonial identity, tradition, and modernity. Works like Death and the King’s Horseman by Wole Soyinka or Sizwe Banzi is Dead by Athol Fugard, John Kani, and Winston Ntshona confront themes of identity, racial inequality, and the human condition through African perspectives. Producing such works could bring fresh, impactful narratives to audiences and, importantly, create space for Black actors to portray characters who grapple with cultural experiences rarely explored in Western works.
David Henry Hwang has been a powerful voice against the misrepresentation of Asian characters and stories. With M. Butterfly, Hwang broke ground in exposing stereotypes and critiquing the tendency to cast white actors in Asian roles. For Hwang, casting is important, but the greater issue is ensuring that Asian-American stories are given the space to be told, authentically, by those who understand them.
But M. Butterfly is only one of many works exploring Asian experiences. Why not also bring more of the works of playwrights like Young Jean Lee, whose Songs of the Dragons Flying to Heaven takes a critical, often satirical, look at Asian identity in America, or Korean playwright Han Kang's The Vegetarian, which examines conformity, mental health, and rebellion in a distinctively South Korean context?
Moreover, there’s an extensive canon of Jewish plays outside the well-trodden territory of Fiddler on the Roof and The Diary of Anne Frank. Israeli playwrights like Joshua Sobol (Ghetto) and Hanoch Levin (The Labor of Life) offer stark, often satirical, reflections on Jewish identity, politics, and existential crisis. These works are not only culturally rich but also add depth to the Jewish experience beyond the Holocaust, enabling Jewish actors and creatives to bring to life narratives that are complex, contemporary, and critical.
Finally, there are the unique contributions of women playwrights whose stories probe issues that have been neglected in mainstream theater.
Caryl Churchill, for instance, uses her plays to explore the intersections of gender, power, and identity. In Top Girls, she critiques the sacrifices women make in a patriarchal world, raising questions about the costs of success for women in male-dominated spaces. Her works challenge audiences to consider what it means for women to achieve empowerment on their own terms.
While Lorraine Hansberry’s A Raisin in the Sun is celebrated for its portrayal of race and class, it also brings a powerful perspective on the aspirations and resilience of Black women. Through characters like Lena and Beneatha, Hansberry provides a multidimensional view of womanhood in a Black family striving against systemic barriers.
In How I Learned to Drive, Paula Vogel delves into themes of trauma and abuse, tackling these topics with honesty and sensitivity through the perspective of a young girl. Similarly, Sarah DeLappe’s The Wolves captures the complexities of adolescence and identity as a high school girls’ soccer team navigates the intensity of competition, friendship, and self-discovery. The play’s format ~ set entirely on the soccer field ~ is a fresh, raw portrayal of girlhood that resonates with young women’s experiences today.
Lynn Nottage’s plays explore the lives of women, Black Americans, and other underrepresented groups in ways that move beyond tropes and stereotypes, making room for nuanced portrayals that speak to the full spectrum of human experience. With works like Intimate Apparel (which, to its great credit and my rave review, Arizona Theatre Company produced earlier this year) and Sweat, she accentuates how the industry’s limited selection of narratives reduces the opportunities for actors from marginalized backgrounds. For example, her Pulitzer-winning play Ruined confronts the brutal realities faced by women during wartime in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Sweat examines the struggles of working-class women against the backdrop of deindustrialization in America.
Today, new voices are taking up the mantle, calling not only for diverse casting but also for a greater commitment to structurally diversifying the stories on our stages.
Jeremy O. Harris (Slave Play) argues that the industry must move beyond surface-level diversity to address the deeper issues of systemic exclusion. Harris’s work and his public statements challenge theaters to consider the full humanity of marginalized communities and to stage stories that provoke thought, discussion, and, ultimately, change. For example, in a 2020 interview with The New York Times, he said, “I want to know that this industry isn’t interested in using Black bodies as a trend, but rather that we’re going to invest in these bodies and voices as a way to change how we think about American art.”
In the Latino community, alongside Leguizamo, playwrights like Quiara Alegría Hudes, Tanya Saracho, and Luis Alfaro have been vocal about the importance of representing Latinx stories on major stages. Hudes, known for In the Heights and Water by the Spoonful, has spoken out against the tendency of theater institutions to include only superficial representations of Latinx life. She calls for a deeper, more comprehensive inclusion of Latinx narratives, ones that reflect the diversity within the community itself. Saracho, whose works like El Nogalar explore the Mexican-American experience, emphasizes the need for Latino creatives not just as actors but in all roles ~ playwrights, directors, and executives who can bring these stories to life from within the communities they represent. Alfaro’s Electricidad, a Chicano adaptation of Electra roots its tragic elements in a contemporary Mexican-American neighborhood, exploring familial loyalty and gang culture.
Similarly, Asian-American artists like Kristina Wong are challenging the industry to think beyond token diversity. Wong, known for her play Sweatshop Overlord, highlights the ways Asian-American narratives are often reduced to stereotypes. Her work pushes audiences to see Asian-American lives in all their complexity, challenging stereotypes and broadening the kinds of roles available to Asian actors.
These voices collectively emphasize that representation in theater must go beyond casting decisions. It needs to include a rethinking of which stories are told and how theater seasons are programmed.
Imagine the impact if Broadway or major regional theaters embraced plays like Wole Soyinka’s Death and the King’s Horseman, which offers a powerful critique of colonialism from an African perspective, or Joshua Sobol’s Ghetto, which delves into Jewish identity during the Holocaust in complex, nuanced ways.
Expanding the repertoire in this way wouldn’t just create new roles for underrepresented actors; it would offer audiences richer, more varied stories that could connect with a broader spectrum of experiences.
(And, selfishly, what a breath of fresh air it would be as a theater critic to see something beyond the usual and predictable parade of annual revivals and well-worn classics!)
The benefits of this approach are twofold: actors from diverse backgrounds gain the chance to portray characters that reflect their cultures and histories, while audiences experience a theater season that mirrors the complexities of the real world. In contrast to identity-conscious casting alone, expanding the repertoire embraces the full richness of global storytelling. A theater season that includes plays by Han Kang alongside Wole Soyinka, Luis Alfaro alongside Lynn Nottage, opens up a world of narratives that deepen our collective empathy and understanding.
All these artists call upon theater-makers to think boldly, to look beyond the well-trodden paths, and to dare to create a stage that reflects the full tapestry of human life. As Leguizamo said, “Let us challenge our theaters to embrace these stories,” not just for the benefit of underrepresented actors, but for the cultural enrichment of everyone in the theater.
Yes, indeed, let’s join their call! By staging a wider range of stories, we can create a theater landscape where representation and storytelling, as Leguizamo said, “are not just buzzwords but become a vibrant reality that captivates, educates, and inspires us all.”
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