Down The Road, Playhouse East Theatre Review
Written by Paris for Theatre and Tonic
Disclaimer: Gifted tickets in exchange for an honest review
Lee Blessing’s Down the Road, currently at Playhouse East under the direction of Tracy Mathewson, poses an urgent question: How does our obsession with true crime shape our ethical boundaries? The production keeps this focus sharp throughout but stops short of fully dissecting the issue, leaving the most important angles unexplored.
The play follows married journalists Iris (Annelise Bianchini) and Dan Henniman (Aaron Vodovoz), assigned to interview convicted serial killer Bill Reach (Joshua Collins) for a book deal. As they delve deeper into his psyche, Dan, insecure and neurotic, begins dangerously sympathizing with Reach’s "charm"—the intoxicating male dominance at the core of so many true crime narratives. Vodovoz expertly captures this unsettling shift, while Bianchini’s Iris, ambitious yet self-aware, provides a grounded contrast, voicing concerns Dan refuses to acknowledge.
Collins delivers a chilling yet uneven performance as Reach. While his ability to shift between intimidation and relatability is gripping, his portrayal sometimes veers too overtly unhinged, bordering on theatrical excess. This approach slightly weakens the credibility of his character, at times making it seem as if he could be a fraud rather than a genuine predator. Still, Collins’s stage presence remains unsettlingly magnetic.
A core issue with the text is its over-explanation—characters state Reach’s motivations early on, yet the play continues circling the same idea over and over again. This lack of trust in the audience dilutes the tension and makes certain scenes feel redundant.
Despite this, the production’s technical elements are excellent. The lighting and sound design create an almost cinematic atmosphere, while the clever staging seamlessly transitions between a motel room and a prison cell using only lighting cues. This reinforces the claustrophobia of both spaces, mirroring how ambition, fear, and power struggles unfold within them.
Beyond its immediate psychological drama, Down the Road sparks an important discussion about our relationship with true crime. The play critiques the industry’s unhealthy obsession with the thrill of power, violence, and the consumption of others’ suffering. It presents true crime not as an impartial recounting of facts but as a market-driven product that capitalizes on audiences’ morbid curiosity. Even those who recognize the ethical concerns of profiting from such stories—like Iris—find themselves compromising, forced to prioritize commercial success over their moral instincts. This is one of the strongest ideas of the play: acknowledging that even critical voices within the industry must play by the market’s rules to survive.
However, much like the true crime genre itself, the play stops short of exploring the deeper societal roots of serial violence. It doesn’t interrogate the economic and structural conditions that breed this mindset, nor does it fully grapple with how systemic power imbalances contribute to the glorification of male violence. In this way, Down the Road risks falling into the same trap as the content it critiques—shocking, engaging, but ultimately reinforcing a familiar cycle. And this, perhaps, is the most troubling takeaway: that in consuming these stories, we fulfill the killer’s ultimate desire—to be remembered. We make them into legends, figures worthy of obsession, adding to the cycle of glorification.
In the end, for fans of true crime series like Mindhunter or those interested in dissecting our fascination with serial killers, Down the Road is an engaging and thought-provoking watch. It is a sharp, focused piece of theatre that never loses sight of its central theme, avoiding unnecessary diversions and maintaining a strong sense of coherence. While it doesn’t break new ground in its critique, it is an honest and engaging production that holds a mirror to our own complicity in consuming violence as entertainment.
At Playhouse East Theatre until 2Gth March 2025
★ ★ ★. 5
