Review: Crystal Skillman’s Open Conjures Real Stage Magic

Falling in love can be magic, but losing love can feel like a card trick. Open, now running at the WP Theater, is an intimate, detailed portrait of a woman desperately trying to hold on to her relationship, and it’s anchored by a masterful performance.

The play is about a woman called the Magician (Megan Hill) who is casting a spell as the audience enters. She slowly waves her arms in a serious, sad trance. Her story is one of love, commitment, and sacrifice, revolving around her girlfriend, Jenny.  Being an amateur, she explains, the Magician has only ever done magic for Jenny.

The Magician takes us through their meet-cute in the occult section of the Strand bookstore, their dates at quirky New York institutions, and the moments where their relationship deepens. Jenny’s all in, but the Magician is hesitant, and though she jovially performs several tricks and stunts, there’s a dark foreboding over the proceedings that the Magician can’t shake.

Hill’s physicality is astounding as she cycles through a variety of characters, including the “real her” under the magician persona. Hill’s fully realized “Jenny” is lighthearted, curious, and hopeful. She is a true believer, perhaps the real sorcerer of the relationship, while the Magician struggles to keep up her illusions. Hill’s performance is as much a balancing act as the tightrope she mimes crossing, shifting the mood from infatuation to love to despair.

Though it’s not clear in the beginning what caused the rift between her and Jenny, it’s obvious her tricks are acts of desperation to hold on to something she may have already lost. The mystery is slowly and thoughtfully built up, until reality finally comes crashing down on her. Hill especially wows in the final moments of the play, in a simple yet breathtaking finale.

The story grabs our attention and never lets us go, in large part because of the play’s stellar construction, weaving together moments of fantasy, memory, and harsh reality. Playwright Crystal Skillman’s deft language relishes in small moments that telegraph several layers of meaning. A secondary plotline about the Magician’s mother is particularly graceful, with small moments building on each other to pack an emotional wallop by the end. It’s economical without sacrificing emotion: not a moment is wasted in the 75-minute play, perfectly mirroring the urgency of the Magician’s task.

The production elements match Hill’s engaging performance. Lighting by Sarah Johnston is stunning and evocative. The Magician levitates off the stage, wanders through Macy’s Santaland, and grips the side of a hospital bed all through Johnston’s use of color and shadow. Though the stage is bare, Hill and the creative team conjure the scenes out of nothing. Emma Wilk’s sound design is also on point—its’s minimalist, evocative, and perfectly timed to the Magician’s act, seamlessly pulling the show together.

All of this adds up to a one-woman show that’s punching high above its weight class. The show is back in New York after a run at the Tank in 2019, and I wouldn’t miss a chance to catch it now. Enthralling and emotional, it’s fascinating to see Open unfold.