Review: Sound Theater Company's HUNGRY at Center Theater

There’s no escaping the kitchen in Hungry, now playing at Sound Theatre Company. Not just because the set keeps the kitchen table at center stage, no matter where in time we’re dropped. But because food, and everything it represents; culture, class, control, comfort is the simmering heart of this gripping two-hander. And with two extraordinary performances from Simone Alene and Jayne Hubbard, that heat doesn’t just stay on. It boils over.

Directed by Vincent J. Orduña, Hungry follows the volatile relationship between Bex (Simone Alene), a Black waitress craving control over her own life, and Lori (Jayne Hubbard), her seemingly well-meaning but oblivious white girlfriend, a chef with a penchant for organic food and unsolicited opinions. Told through nonlinear vignettes, the story unfolds across kitchen tables and restaurant shifts, always circling back to a charged argument at Bex’s mother’s funeral. Food serves as both anchor and metaphor to symbolize culture, class, power, nostalgia, and grief. What begins as workplace flirtation quickly unravels into a mess of microaggressions, appropriation, and unmet expectations.

Simone Alene is magnetic as Bex, delivering a late-show monologue so emotionally rich and incisive it stops time. Alene takes a very long monologue and keeps it compelling with a complex, layered, dynamic performance. Truly a masterclass. Jayne Hubbard’s Lori has a tough lift: self-absorbed, tone-deaf, and thoroughly convinced she knows best. But Hubbard grounds her with just enough nuance to keep her from becoming a caricature. It’s to both actors’ credit that the relationship feels as believable as it is maddening. They definitely have sexual chemistry, and some flirty banter, but as an audience member, you can't help but ask: “Why are these two still together?” The tension between them is claustrophobic, especially as we return again and again to that key confrontation at the funeral. I wanted to pull my hair out! This falls squarely into the, “Girl, you need to leave them!” genre. Major kudos to both actors for maintaining their accents throughout (no small feat) and for going toe-to-toe in every emotionally charged scene. This show doesn’t let either character hide and these two performers don’t flinch. 

Lori’s flaws aren’t just personality quirks; they’re racial and classist blind spots she refuses to acknowledge. From assuming Bex’s family is homophobic because they’re Black, to co-opting cultural cuisines for her melting pot restaurant dreams, Lori steamrolls over Bex’s identity with every well-intentioned but deeply misguided gesture. The worst of which? Showing up uninvited to a funeral with food she thinks is “better.” If that’s not a metaphor for white liberal cluelessness, I don’t know what is.

Now, a note I feel obligated to include: on the night I attended, the closed captioning system (touted in a thoughtful pre-show accessibility speech by Co-Artistic Director Teresa Thuman) didn’t work. And I commend the Sound Theatre Company for providing so many accessible options for this show. There's a Spanish-captioned night, an all-masks night, and a sensory-friendly performance. But if accessibility is promised, it must be delivered. I believe a show this sharply critical of well-intentioned allyship shouldn't fall into the same trap. 

Still, despite that misstep, Hungry is a bold, biting, beautifully performed piece of theater. I may never understand what Bex saw in Lori—but with performances this strong, I believed every minute of it.

Grade: A-