On Thursday through Saturday, May 1–3, 2025, the Theater Department presented their mainstage production for the Spring 2025 semester, “The Moors,” written by American playwright Jen Silverman. Walking into the Center for the Arts (CFA) Theater on a warm Thursday night, I was immediately transported to the hallowed halls of a mansion on the English moors. Before the show even began, the incredible set design (by Associate Professor of Theater Marcela Oteiza, assisted by Joel Pau ’27 and Jordan Schwarz ’26), with its ceiling-high window panes, Victorian furniture, and detailed chandelier, made me feel like I had walked into a 19th century gothic novel.
Directed by Visiting Assistant Professor of Theater Alex Keegan, “The Moors” follows a young governess, Emilie (Cindy Wang ’26), as she begins a new job overseeing wealthy sisters, Agatha (Paige Merril ’26) and Huldey (Mia Ronn ’27), after being invited by their older brother, Branwell. The cast is rounded out by the family’s maid, Marjory (Hao Fu ’26), the sisters’ pet Mastiff (Josh Ehrlich ’25), and a Moor-Hen (Kimaya Mehta ’28), with whom he falls in love. Chosen by the Theater Department’s Show Selection Committee, “The Moors” explores themes of gender, class, and power through the show’s gothic setting.
“When we encountered the play, students on that committee were excited about the eerie, queer world Silverman had created on the page and were delighted by the ways in which the play opened up opportunities to explore the Victorian period in design, dive into comedy, and uplift theatricality, all while examining questions of gendered and class-based power dynamics,” Keegan wrote in an email to The Argus.
Upon Emilie’s arrival at the mansion, she tries to learn more about the family she’ll be working for but is only met with Agatha’s cold explanation of what she’ll be expected to do in her new role as governess. She inquires about Branwell, with whom she’s been exchanging letters for months, and receives no direct response.
Meanwhile, Huldey, who craves her sister’s attention (or anyone’s, for that matter), traps the various members of the household into dramatic readings from her diary, in which she records the dull, repetitive events of her life. Marjory, who often serves as Huldey’s audience because no one else wants to, complains bitterly about her station in life, since she is forced to work tirelessly for ungrateful and often cruel employers.
Out of the sight of his owners, the Mastiff ponders on the meaning of life and connection until he encounters a clumsy Moor-Hen, with whom he quickly becomes infatuated. Ehrlich performed the role in partial completion of his capstone project, working with Assistant Professor of Theater Lauren Yeoman to build on the work that he did during his study-abroad program.
“The main framing of my capstone was to allow me to pull from both of my majors [theater and psychology] to fully explore the Mastiff, specifically how he exists, what motivates him, and how he interacts with the other characters,” Ehrlich wrote in an email to The Argus. “My favorite thing that I was able to incorporate into rehearsals is something I first explored last spring when I studied abroad at the British American Drama Academy (BADA). My Movement teacher there heavily focused on embodying the elements (water/earth/air/fire) and how those qualities can exist within characters. With the Mastiff, I felt most connected to air and its aspects of freedom and joy, as well as the more fiery qualities of anger and frustration. Movement was my favorite class at BADA, and I am very happy that I was able to bring that back with me.”
As time in The Moors crawls forward, Agatha reveals to Emilie that she wrote the racy letters that were allegedly from Branwell. She also admits that Branwell isn’t dead (as she earlier told Emilie), but rather being held in the attic, starved within an inch of his life so that he can provide the estate with an heir by impregnating Emilie before Agatha disposes of him once and for all. Emilie, enthralled by Agatha’s boldness and the danger of the plan, agrees to bear the family’s heir and the two admit their romantic feelings for one another.
Before they can carry out their devious plans, Huldey kills her older sister in a blind rage after Agatha tells her that she isn’t special and that no one will ever take an interest in her writing. Meanwhile, the Mastiff, whose love for the Moor-Hen has evolved into obsession and paranoia that she’ll abandon him, eats her, ensuring that she’ll never leave.
“I’ve come to view ‘The Moors’ as a cautionary tale, warning us against allowing our fantasies to become all-consuming,” Ehrlich wrote. “I see the Mastiff and Huldey as the two characters who best exemplify this message…. Whenever these characters realize and/or are confronted with the truth, they lash out…. Neither character ends up as happy or fulfilled as they once thought they would be. As Agatha says many times throughout the play, happiness is not something that can be achieved through planning, and engaging in fantasies will only let us down—happiness can only be found by existing in the world truthfully.”
A particular standout moment of the performance came directly after Agatha’s murder, when Huldey performs a ballad she’s written about her sister’s death. The stage transformed into a pop concert with strobing lights and an electric guitar melody blasting as Ronn danced wildly around the set.
Ultimately, “The Moors” offered a rich exploration of class, gender, and power for its audiences last weekend, with powerful, layered performances from its whole cast and a robust setting, created through excellent lighting and expertly crafted sound design.
“‘The Moors,’ in many ways, is a play about our current moment—its exploration of disconnection and longing feels as relevant to the Victorian era as it does to today,” Keegan wrote. “I hope that audiences leave the play both startled and reflective.”
Sulan Bailey can be reached at sabailey@wesleyan.edu.
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