Review: COLD WAR CHOIR PRACTICE at MAIN STREET THEATER

Cold War Choir Practice is a darkly humorous take on growing up around a roller rink in the late 80s, when tensions between Reagan and Gorbachev reached a fever pitch. The Cold War marked a time when everyone feared a blast that would destroy us all. Nuclear war seemed inevitable; the economics were rough, and children believed they could possibly change the world with a song. That is where we were, as captured by playwright Ro Reddick, whose 2025 hit play is premiering regionally at Main Street Theater through October 11th. There are spies, mysterious Speak and Spells, roller skating, and choral music at every turn in this frenetic epic that asks us to drift back a few decades. This is a show that demands the most creative minds, and asks its audiences to roll with them through an intentionally zany crock pot casserole of singing, skating, espionage, family drama, cults, and politics. Cold War Choir Practice offers you a ton to chew on, and it’s a blast to gorge at the buffet provided. Main Street Theater has challenged itself and its audience with this dazzling regional premiere that showcases the best of acting, design, and sheer hutzpah to pull this one off. While everyone else in town is dusting off crusty, well-worn classics, Main Street Theater is taking us back to the future.  

It’s 1987 in Syracuse, and the Roll-A-Rama Skating Rink is run by a black family that consists of a father, daughter, and grandmother. The daughter is in a bizarrely political children’s chorus that sings for peace, and encourages Russian pen pals (a true bit from the author’s life). Bills are piling up, and then out of the blue, the Republican brother shows up with his white wife, who has mysteriously taken ill. Tensions build, and soon everyone faces something bigger than themselves as the fate of the Western world hurtles towards them. Did I mention there’s a quartet of “spooky white women” who sing an underscore to most of the dialogue? And there is roller skating, but without wheels. And bombs.  

Director Jessica Jaye and the cast certainly have their hands full with this one, but they manage to make the most of what seems impossible on paper. Jessica does a marvelous job of bringing together text, actors, and tech. Everybody commits, and it's striking from the start. Bria Washington captures all of the wide-eyed wonder of ten-year-old Meek, and she steals hearts with her sincere and unironic performance. It’s something to see, Bria transforms. Andrea Boronell Hunter plays Puddin, the grandmother. I could not get enough of her comic timing, and she has a natural charisma and warmth that make her stand out. Cedric Duplechain is also a stage force to be reckoned with as the father, and he is complemented well by Steve Scott as his brother. Across the board, the actors are solid. Leslie Lenert is fun in a role that asks her to do some of the most bizarre passages. And above all of this, Kara Greenberg, Hannah Hall, Jade Kelly, and Angela Pinina are hysterically funny as a chorus of women who drift around singing and underscoring the play for almost the entire run time. They act as the Andrew Sisters, giving Greek Chorus, and I couldn’t stop smiling anytime they show up. They play incidental characters, and go for broke with a stylized sardonic style that gives Cold War Choir Practice its strongest punch. This cast is the bomb! 

Technically, things are just as impressive as the thespians. Afsaneh Aayani proves once again why she is Houston’s most in-demand scenic artist. She creates an entire roller disco complete with neon and the signature carpet to fill every inch of Main Street’s black box! Is there nothing this woman can not make better? Krystal Uchem’s costumes say as much as the characters do, and add to the sense of dark comedy in unexpected ways. David Gipson’s lighting is bright and has an era-appropriate palette. James Templeton’s projection work takes us back to the 80s, several stories high. He does amazing towering work here. Debbie Wylie’s music and Hindolo Bongay’s choreography are tight, making this whole thing literally sing and dance. Rodney Walsworth mines out some significant 80s props and set dressing that took me back instantly. Jacob C. Sanchez revives some tracks from the day that had me singing my way out of the theater. There is a playfulness and a joy to the design that are infectious, and they contribute a lot to what the script is saying.  

The script is a challenge. It’s lofty and “oh so ambitious.” At times, it feels like it goes in the “too much” territory. The tone goes all over the place, and we wonder if we should feel something different. So many themes and questions are stuffed in here, and not all of it gets addressed as clearly as you would like in the resolution. And yet, I thoroughly enjoyed it for the whole ride! It has all the hallmarks of going to a roller rink. It’s flashy, loud, and has a silliness you can’t avoid. But there are the dark corners, and it does say a lot that you will be surprised to unravel. I admire what Ro Reddick is doing here because it is reaching for something unique. I guarantee you have not seen anything like this before, and kudos to Main Street Theater for giving it to Houston audiences. They have really taken a risk, and artistically, this one pays off. Recently, I saw a debate on whether art was entertainment, and vice versa. Cold War Choir Practice proves to become the impossible by being entertaining art. It certainly beats holding on to the past and venturing only into what is proven to work. This show skates hopefully into the future. 

Cold War Choir Practice runs at Main Street Theater through October 11th. Parking around the theater can be tricky, so plan to arrive early enough to navigate the options. The show runs about two hours, and it has a fifteen-minute intermission. There are neon and disco balls, so if you are sensitive to that or roller boogie, be aware.

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