By AJ Jaffari

What happens when deeply personal stories of love are given nothing but a performer, a stage, and an audience willing to listen?

Crushing at A.C.T.’s Strand Theater approaches live performance from a refreshingly different angle, bringing together an interdisciplinary group of writers and performers to share true stories surrounding romantic love and the experiences that shape how we connect with one another. Rather than following one traditional narrative, the evening unfolds through individual pieces centered around vulnerability, intimacy, and human connection.

Produced by Megan Calfas and Carly Steyer, with Rosario Dawson returning as an executive producer, Crushing has previously enjoyed sold-out runs in both New York and San Francisco. This latest iteration brings another eclectic group of storytellers together, each arriving with a completely different background and perspective. The result is less a conventional play and more a live storytelling experiment—one where the written word and the person brave enough to share it become the centerpiece.

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This was my first experience with a piece structured like this, and while I admired the concept, I’ll admit I struggled to connect with every story equally. With so many different voices and experiences presented independently, I sometimes found myself searching for a stronger thematic thread to connect one monologue to the next. There were also moments where I felt certain pieces might have benefited from slightly more rehearsal time or adjustments in pacing to allow the writing to land more naturally.

That said, what I never questioned was the vulnerability on display. It was evident that these performers had poured an incredible amount of themselves into what they had written. Many of the stories were heartfelt, deeply personal, and filled with raw emotion. Personal storytelling is inherently subjective; something that profoundly resonates with one audience member may not land the same way for another. Even when I didn’t personally connect with a particular piece, I could appreciate the courage required to stand before a room of strangers and share something so intimate.

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Of the evening’s storytellers, three particularly stood out to me.

Tomas Moniz immediately won me over with the Lana references alone, but beyond that, I found his writing to be among the strongest of the evening. There was an ease and personality to his storytelling that made the piece feel conversational rather than performed, drawing me naturally into his world. Moniz is an Oakland-based novelist whose work includes Big Familia and All Friends Are Necessary, and that literary background certainly came through in the clarity of his storytelling.

Harriett Jernigan was another standout. Her piece felt particularly assured in both its writing and delivery, demonstrating a strong understanding of how a personal story can build and unfold in front of a live audience. Given her extensive background in live storytelling—including appearances on The Moth Radio Hour and her work creating the Bay Area storytelling series First Person—that command made perfect sense.

Gerald Cypert also left a strong impression on me. Knowing that his life has included 28 years of incarceration followed by extensive work in addiction counseling, mentorship, advocacy, and reentry only adds context to the perspective he brings to the stage. His contribution felt rooted in lived experience rather than theatricality, and that authenticity stayed with me.

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What I ultimately appreciated most about Crushing was its willingness to experiment with what a theatrical evening can look like. There’s something uniquely powerful about removing elaborate scenery, characters, and traditional plot structure and asking an audience to simply listen to another human being tell their story.

Not every piece resonated with me in the same way, and I occasionally wished the evening had a clearer connective tissue tying these individual experiences together. But perhaps part of the point is that love and connection don’t fit neatly into one shared narrative. They’re messy, individual, contradictory, and deeply personal.

Crushing creates a space for those differences to exist side by side. While this particular style of performance may not always be my theatrical sweet spot, I left appreciating the concept, the vulnerability of its storytellers, and the opportunity to experience something entirely different from what I normally encounter onstage.