Review: "Anonymous" Immerses Audiences in an Eventful Support Group Meeting

Anonymous

Written by Nick Thomas

Directed by Sara Fellini

Presented by spit&vigor at spit&vigor's tiny baby blackbox theatre

115 Macdougal St, Manhattan, NYC - Studio 3C

January 29-February 28, 2026

Sara Fellini and Daliah Bernstein. Photo courtesy of spit&vigor.
Despite the massive weight of evidence and ethics against treating addiction as a criminal rather than a public health matter, this approach continues to dominate in United States, one of the nation's seemingly innumerable metaphorical "wars"; and that approach, along with the stigmatization that it both feeds into and feeds upon, were arguably even more pronounced in the 1990s, when Nick Thomas's play Anonymous takes place. Unfolding over the course of a single addiction support group meeting in 1992, the engrossing Anonymous develops a striking snapshot of the paths that brought its characters to the group and the challenges they confront in maintaining sobriety. By seating the audience in the same small circle of chairs as the actors, this immersively intimate production embeds the spectators into the emotional crosscurrents that flow through the meeting on what one character optimistically calls a "special night."
Azumi Tsutsui. Photo courtesy of spit&vigor.
Anonymous is set in a community center, and the production immerses us in that setting not only through seating but through the design and placement of the program and through encouragement to partake of the coffee and cookies on a table along one wall beneath a bulletin board and "Hang in There" poster. As a final lead-in to the beginning of the play proper, Blind Melon's "No Rain" plays, a song from a band whose frontman would die of an overdose in 1995, just a few years after Anonymous takes place. As the play begins, we see a nervous Richard (George Walsh) setting up for the meeting. The nerves for this sincere, soft-spoken man stem from the fact that he will be leading the group for the first time because regular group leader Charlie (Jesse James Metz) has had an unspecified emergency. Richard's preparations complete, the other members of the group filter in. Michael (Nick Thomas) is a swaggering, confrontational businessman who characterizes himself as the work-hard, play-hard type. Sarah (Daliah Bernstein), more the flannel and combat boots type, is a struggling model/actress whose phone rings far less than it used to while the temptations involved with that world remain constantly around her. Elizabeth (Sara Fellini), who has done her own share of hard partying, owns a "gorgeous" second home in the Hamptons and likes to remind everyone of that fact. Blake (Steven Gamble), whom Sarah and Elizabeth agree is "hot," prompting Richard to remind them of the policy against any kind of sexual relationship between group members, is the newest member of the group and works as an EMT. The well-dressed but enigmatic Diana (Azumi Tsutsui), meanwhile, has been coming to the support group for some time, but her silence at meetings so far has led some of the others to begin referring to her as "number five" behind her back. Over the course of the meeting, Diana will not be the only one to complicate and deepen our first impressions of them, amidst sniping and meltdowns, repetitions and revelations, all of which tests the characters' commitments to themselves and to one another.
 L to R: Daliah Bernstein, Sara Fellini (facing away), and George Walsh. Photo courtesy of spit&vigor.
The model of sharing in turn that structures these meetings means that we learn something, generally something poignant, about the causes and/or effects of each person's alcohol and/or drug addiction. This structure also helps to give each actor a spotlight moment (though not all of these moments occur within the sharing framework), and the terrific cast rises to each of them. The performances expertly blend a naturalistic, everyday relatability with visceral emotional weight, and small details like Blake's manspreading when he takes his seat after arriving late or the palpable tension of Sarah's body language in moments of stress work to stamp out any remaining distance between actors and audience, real world and performance space. Guilt emerges as one theme here–and, based on how the meeting plays out, it doesn't seem a stretch to view the guilt that can come with leading a support group as barely different from the guilt that an EMT might feel when he cannot save someone. This theme dovetails with the play's presentation of sobriety as a process rather than a product, so to speak, and not a process where someone is "cured" or "saved." Relatedly, Anonymous shows us both the emotional toll of care labor and the necessity for empathy while also highlighting the distinction between "listening" and "hearing." Having invested us thoroughly in its characters and their struggles, Anonymous ultimately suggests that helping one another, even by just being there, is of paramount importance–a kind of dependency we should actually encourage.

-John R. Ziegler and Leah Richards

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Review: "How To Eat an Orange" Cuts into the Life of an Argentine Artist and Activist

Review: The Immersive "American Blues: 5 Short Plays by Tennessee Williams" Takes Audiences on a Marvelously Crafted Journey

Review: From Child Pose to Stand(ing) Up: "Yoga with Jillian" and "Penguin in Your Ear" at the Women in Theatre Festival