A Walk on the Moon – 24 June 2026
Most theatrical pieces choose to center their stories around a character or two, maybe a neighborhood at most. A Walk on the Moon dares to center itself around an entire universe where even people and ideas that seem incredibly far and completely out of reach are the true focus. On the surface, A Walk on the Moon is about a housewife named Pearl (Talia Suskauer) who briefly tastes liberation before succumbing to the reality of the life she must live. But A Walk on the Moon isn’t about reality any more than it’s about shtupping the blouse man, Walker (Sam Gravitte). It’s about a world where people are simultaneously drafted to die en masse, jumping fences for the greatest act of protest in human history, and literally walking on the moon. In these monumentous times, humanity still moves on at an individual level, with falling in love, needing your family, buying tie dye shirts, and not wanting more than you can handle are still incredible, overwhelming, world-encompassing experiences.
A good chunk of the show is devoted to the task of world-building. One brilliant example of this is a song prompted, or perhaps provoked, by Betty Friedan’s The Feminine Mystique. The women of the bungalow colony laugh in the face of ideas about having hobbies or careers because they have so much to do already. This song grounds the audience in the status quo for Pearl’s world to contextualize the rest of her journey so that she can remain a likable character despite the infidelity and lack of consideration for her children. Another grounding piece of context is the idea of Neil Armstrong’s “big step for mankind” and how hard it is for Pearl to take any steps at all. A third comes from her teenage daughter Alison (Sophie Pollono), who is an antiwar activist dialed into the music scene, eagerly anticipating gong to Woodstock with her new boyfriend Ross (Oscar Williams). Despite being in the same world, the music of this generation’s songs has a different, energized feeling of possibility. Yet another piece of this world comes from Walker, whose brother was a soldier who went missing in action.
Design elements also create this world, and I was particularly impressed with scenic and video design (Tal Yarden). The projections were hyperrealistic at times, and, at other times, completely abstract. In the moments where the world felt like it was moving around Pearl and she wasn’t part of it, the video design was too crisp and polished to feel real. In the moments of free love were gloriously psychedelic. There was one brilliant moment where Pearl was living a double life. In front of the scrim, she was swaying in Walker’s arms. Her mother-in-law Lillian (Andrea Burns) is behind the scrim talking to her about ordinary life. Pearl is speaking to Lillian behind the scrim, a layer of lies between them as her mind is elsewhere, with Walker. There are other brilliant projection moments, including those surrounding the moon walk.
Taken as a whole, A Walk on the Moon is a fun, energized musical adventure that transports the audience to a moment in time that is itching with possibility. The characters are aching with unexpressed feelings in a time of free love. The world is gigantic and the characters are simultaneously small specs upon it and the only parts that matter. The show is relatable, engaging, and a delight to watch. The cultural authenticity of these characters feels very real, and it was refreshing to hear a little Yiddish here and there. This is a show for anyone who has ever felt stuck in a world that is moving too fast for them. The vocal performances and score are spot on, and the implications of the story are far out.
I attended this performance on a press pass from Candi Adams PR.

