At first glance, “Goodnight Embryos” seems like a queer story about the politics of reproduction. As it develops, though, it becomes more about the ebbs and flows of a relationship.
The play marks the first time Charleston-based theater company The Void performs as a part of Piccolo Spoleto Festival. The story takes place over 10 years, starting in 2014, and features Teddi Lynette Thomas as Belle and Sadia Matthews as Em.
After the couple conceives a son named Rory through invitro fertilization, five embryos are left. The plot centers around a modern family quandary: what to do with the remaining five embryos? Work, stress and relationship difficulties further complicate their decision. In a complex series of scenes that tug at the heartstrings, you can’t help but root for the pair as a couple, and simultaneously, root for the two as individuals.
“Goodnight Embryos” is not on a stage. Instead, the audience and leading characters Belle and Em share a small room together at Hed Hi Studios. In this space, playwright Maureen McGranaghan invites the audience into Belle and Em’s kitchen and their lives. But the invitation rapidly feels like an invasion of privacy.
Our most personal and shameful moments and secrets are usually protected behind closed doors. Our homes create a sanctuary that shields us from public exposure and commentary; we get to allow who comes and goes. “Goodnight Embryos” subverts that idea.
As the scenes shift, news anchors’ commentary weaves with instrumental music narrating the story and illustrating the passing of time – while the set is basked in a blue light. Both the music and news stories reflect the years in which the play is set, establishing context without muddying the dialogue. The anxieties surrounding Trump’s election victory paired with Childish Gambino’s “This Is America” evoke a haunting atmosphere that transports the audience to 2016. At first, the shift is jarring, then it becomes comfortable, deepening the context and enriching the scene that follows. The blue light becomes a warning symbol of America’s ever-changing (and constant) news cycle.
As Em and Belle experience pregnancy, loss and the pandemic, “Goodnight Embryos” has a historical quality. It often felt like the pair were guiding the audience through the past 10 years by tugging at memories that have been shelved in our collective return to normalcy. By the end, it didn’t even feel like two hours had passed.
The revelatory aspects of the play are not centered on queerness but rather what happens when a relationship’s fire is not tended. While at the beginning of Act One the pair have such love and adoration for one another, unresolved arguments snowball.
By the end of Act Two, the spark has become no more than a candle without a flame. As the last scene closes, Ariana Grande’s “we can’t be friends (wait for your love)” plays – the only song where lyrics can be heard – a poignant reminder that even the most beautiful love cannot be forced. Sometimes a pair must part.
The complexity of the characters and the storyline are powerfully resonant. Within the first act, Em shines through with a real brevity; yet after intermission Belle’s performance cannot be overlooked. Watching the story unfold, at every argument there is a real dance between the actors that forces you to rethink what you thought – and who you were rooting for – just a scene ago.
Overall, “Goodnight Embryos” is painfully realistic and beautiful. It is hard not to see a former lover, a current partner or a future significant other in Em and Belle. The pair’s story transcends boundaries in an evocative way.
Sarah Merke and Brandon Wallace are journalism graduate students at Syracuse University.
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