Tiny Beautiful Things at North Carolina Stage Co.
Tiny Beautiful Things is a full-on franchise at this point, beginning with Cheryl Strayed’s “Dear Sugar” advice columns on the webzine The Rumpus (2010-2012) and encompassing Strayed’s best-selling book, Tiny Beautiful Things (2012), a Dear Sugars podcast (2014-2018), and a Hulu drama series (2023), with Kathryn Hahn as Strayed/Sugar. This stage version was created in 2016 to showcase Nia Vardolos (My Big Fat Greek Wedding) in the lead role. (She’s credited for the adaptation, along with two co-conceivers.)
I haven’t read the book, but I’m willing to wager that the onstage format is the best way to experience TBT — especially for those of us with limited time. The current NC Stage Co. production stars Hanley Smith as “Sugar,” an aspiring novelist who takes over an anonymously written online advice column for reasons that become clear as the story unfolds.
Or perhaps “story” is the wrong word here, as Tiny Beautiful Things is more of a performance piece for the able and appealing Smith than it is a traditional play. It might be characterized as a monologue with prompts from three “letter writers” (Frank Britton, Sarah Clements, and Daniel Henry). This trio voices the countless letters Sugar receives, to which the writer’s responses become both a benevolent manifesto and autobiographical confession.
The back and forth takes place in scenic designer Julie K. Ross’s enticingly detailed and realistic set, constituting Sugar’s family’s living room and kitchen, where she goes about her chores as the mother of two young children (unseen) while delivering her advice columns. (The audience members next to me were deciphering the titles of the books on a shelving unit before the show began.) The letter writers wander the space like ghosts, sometimes connecting with Sugar, sometimes fading into the background.
Director Angie Flynn-McIver keeps the tone heartfelt but low-key, wisely not turning even the more shocking questions or answers into melodrama. The show recreates the way a reader might discover Sugar’s columns online or in print: matter-of-factly, with a small dose emotion to give credibility to the queries shared. Britton, Clements, and Henry take on a full range of letter writers, regardless of age or gender, and inject just enough personality to imbue the submissions with urgency.
Sugar’s advice seems constructive, but it’s the confessional anecdotes she injects that pull the show together, as we gradually learn more about the buried traumas that have shaped her. (NC Stage Co.’s posted and spoken trigger warnings are wisely shared.) Whether Sugar’s recommendations to her readers will help them solve their problems is less the point than is her ability to make them feel heard, to provide them with a credible sense of hope, and to suggest that somehow everything really means something. It’s the connection in the moment that matters, the sense of finally being understood.
The title refers to the small blessings and ephemeral instances of beauty that can make life more bearable even in the most difficult times. Even if the specifics of Sugar’s advice may fade quickly in the memory, Smith’s sincere and upbeat performance convinces us that she must be onto something. We are all united by her faith in our common humanity.
After the show ended — it’s just 85 minutes, without intermission — a woman in the row in front of me told her companion, “Don’t watch the Hulu series. It will ruin it for you.” Indeed, Hulu’s take is so literal and fervent as to be cloying. At NC Stage Co., Sugar is sweet but never saccharine.
Tiny Beautiful Things runs through April 5. For tickets and more information, visit ncstage.org.
(Photo courtesy of NC Stage Co.)
