TrueStar Staff 
At the Steppenwolf Theatre Company in Lincoln Park on North Halsted Street, “Windfall” written by Tarell Alvin McCraney, doesn’t just begin, it unfolds. The stage is already alive, as if the story started long before the audience arrived. Nothing feels forced. Everything feels real. From the start, the play carries a quiet intensity that deepens into something heavier. What begins as curiosity becomes emotional weight, drawing the audience into a story that feels less like a performance and more like something lived.
At the center is Mano (Michael Potts), a strong, aging Black father navigating grief, confusion, and responsibility all at once. His pain is raw and, at times, difficult to watch. In one scene, his disbelief over his daughter’s death fills the room so completely that the audience feels it too. It becomes clear this is not just Mano’s grief. It is something shared. But Mano is more than his pain. The audience watches as that pain becomes growth.
Throughout the play, Mano struggles to understand his child Eli (Esco Jouley), particularly their identity and use of they and them pronouns. That tension is real, but what makes Mano compelling is his willingness to evolve. Through love, loss, and reflection, he begins to choose connection over control.
One of the most striking details is that Mano is not his original name. He chose it. This mirrors Eli’s journey of identity, revealing that the two are more alike than they appear. It highlights a deeper truth. Those we struggle to understand often reflect parts of ourselves. Rather than reinforcing judgment, “Windfall” invites empathy.
Eli’s presence exists somewhere between life and death, yet it never feels confusing, only intentional. It suggests that identity extends beyond the physical, into what a person represents. By the end of the play, Eli becomes more than a character, emerging as a symbol of connection and lasting impact.
That idea is reinforced through the deceased son Marcus (Glenn Davis), whose presence feels more reflective than literal. As discussed after the performance, he can be understood less as a physical figure and more as a projection of Mano’s memory and guilt, a reminder that much of what we carry is internal.
The question of control becomes unavoidable when Mano is offered a large sum of money. While it may seem like an opportunity, it reveals something more complex. As one audience member noted, “we search for justice in cash instead,” highlighting how money can shape narratives and silence truth. Accepting it would not just provide comfort. It would limit Mano’s ability to seek justice and speak freely. In that sense, the decision becomes deeply moral.
What is worth more? Justice or comfort.
Music plays a powerful role in exploring that question. Eli uses it to express what words cannot, while Mano’s singing reveals a softer, more vulnerable side. These moments unify both the characters and the audience, showing how music can connect in ways logic cannot.
The story unfolds on a porch, a space both open and exposed. It allows the outside world to enter freely, becoming a place where personal struggles meet larger forces, where connection is possible, but so is pressure.
For young audiences, “Windfall” feels especially relevant right now. It reflects the tension between purpose and money, identity and expectation, survival and meaning. In a world driven by constant movement, the play leaves us with something simpler, yet more difficult.
What are you choosing, and why?
Catch “Windfall” before it leaves the Steppenwolf on May 31at.
By Brandon Bouyer
