Retraction – 31 January 2026

Retraction tells an interesting and timely story about the importance of due diligence when publishing writing through the lens of a reporter examining sexual assault on college campuses who puts believing a survivor over journalistic integrity and then has to face the music when her only source proves herself not to be credible. Telling a true story, Retraction examines power: not only the power of perpetrators and survivors, but also the power of the pen, as the protagonist’s well intentioned words yield death threats for those she did not properly investigate. Serious and stoic, this play serves as a stark reminder that good intentions don’t always lead to good outcomes, and it’s really important to think about the collateral damage of publicly made statements, especially those published with the intention of enduring (and changing the world).

Casting wise, the complexities and nuance in the performers who played full grown adults were delightful, while the college students authentically came off as if this were a college production. The directorial (Caroline Fairweather) decision to keep all testimonies subdued, solemn, and stoic held the production back from the emotional possibilities in David Gutierrez’s text. Only the reporter, Wendy (Renata Friedman); the magazine’s manager, Zack (Nathaniel Stampley); and Dean Grosso (Shannon Dorsey)’s first statement; held any genuine emotion—everyone else was just emphatically (and blankly) telling their truths. The character of the survivor whose story gets centered in the article, Lacey (Rachel Resheff) is described many times by many characters as crying and emotional, yet Resheff gives a performance that is completely deadpan and does not bely any stakes for her character or potential insecurities. The characters representing her friends and loved ones (Carson McCalley, Eliana Rowe, Charlie Webb) paint pictures of Lacey but aren’t given much else to work with; it would add to the story if these pictures were tested for credibility in some way subtextually.

Retraction’s design elements read as an afterthought. The projector was out of focus, and I went back and forth internally many times wondering if this was deliberate. I was unsure why a TV was rolled on at the end to show a video if the space was already using projection. Actors missed their lighting (Adrian Yuen) marks very frequently. Sound (Katie Reif) montages were good, but not cleanly made—cuts between clips and endings of clips were audible to the audience on multiple occasions and levels seemed off, particularly towards the beginning of the show. The set (Julian von Haubrich) gave off the vibe that this was not only a play about a college campus but also a play taking place on one. It might have been easier to take the serious content of this play with the appropriate value and importance if it had looked, sounded, and felt more professional.

The issues that Retraction examines are timely and the need for us to think about what we need to believe in a story is resounding. The desire to believe all sexual assault survivors is important; as the play states, very few are fabrications as this one turned out to be. Towards the end, David Gutierrez slips in a line suggesting that something horrible did happen to Lacey yet she was not taken seriously and that this need to be listened to is what started her lie. In our story of investigative truth, the logical next step would be to find out what Lacey’s mental health challenges are and turn this into a story of someone who needed help and was able to get it from a journalist –an unusual source. Yet Retraction did not go there, suggesting that the real life story this play imitates also did not go there. To me, this is the most profound failure of what Wendy, Gillian (Bella Serrano), and other characters said they stood for—helping to heal sexual assault victims by uncovering their truths and unpacking their traumas. Retraction as a play recounts a public story, but doesn’t fully acknowledge the private, more intimate one that is the most interesting, profound part of doing this kind of work: what can we do that would actually help brave young survivors of sexual assault on campus go beyond telling their stories into healing and moving forward with their education and their lives?

I attended this performance on a press pass from Candi Adams PR.