So much of a happy life depends on the things we can count on: work, family, friends, a home. How hard is it to face losing those things when the rules suddenly change?

Achingly hard, as the working-class patrons of the pub at the heart of Lynn Nottage’s “Sweat” have learned, facing just that. This demanding play opened Friday and is in good hands with ICTRep. Performances run through April 5.

There are so many reasons to fit this drama into your already packed schedule. First, the script. Nottage is the first woman to win the Pulitzer Prize for drama twice. Her work explores American power structures, marginalized communities, and race relations.

The voices she creates for her characters in “Sweat” are so straightforward, so real, that you become immersed in their conversations as if you are with them at the table with a beer and a shot. Set from 2000 to 2008 in Reading, Pennsylvania, the script feels as relevant as it did in 2015 when it debuted and in 2017 when it opened on Broadway. 

Director Julie Longhofer assembled a team clearly committed to this poignant story and its crushing message. Scenes are connected with transitions that remind us of the change in timeframe and blast us with snippets of news to help us recall the events of the day that live in the background of this story. 

This ensemble comes from a pure and honest place. Clearly, each actor has worked to build a credible human, not unheard of in theater, but especially effective in this production.

Chris Maslen as the wise, ever-present bartender, Stan, is a knockout. In spite of his character’s limp due to a work injury, Stan cuts a strong figure and is ready to advise and protect his regulars at all times. Maslan is an impressive force, endowing Stan with strength and compassion so completely that I was 100% sold on his performance. 

Kate Compton is utterly believable as Tracey, one of three dear friends who meet regularly for drinks after getting off at the plant where they’ve worked together for almost 30 years. Compton navigates this tricky role beautifully, embracing the less flattering elements of Tracey as well as the rough charms inherent in her character. We come to see why Tracey is angry, but we’re sad she won’t open her heart to her longtime friend Cynthia, and it’s painful to watch her life implode as she insists on blaming her friend when things aren’t going well. Compton’s vocal work and interactions with Maslan and other characters are convincing and captivating.

Jeneé Jenkins Saffold brings a graceful stability to Cynthia, who has been dreaming of a better future in her decades of working on the line. Saffold gives Cynthia a gently funny and determined demeanor, as she works out how to balance her frustration with her husband’s addiction with her need to maintain a relationship with him, the father of her son. It is moving to watch Saffold process the painful changes in Cynthia’s relationship with Tracey, as she observes her friend “othering” her in a way she has never experienced before.

As Jessie, the perennially intoxicated member of the trio, Chelsea Penner is sympathetic and a wonderful mess. While Jessie is smarter and paying closer attention than most of her friends think, she is ill-equipped for big changes and doesn’t handle conflict well. Penner is charming in the role. 

As devoted pals who grew up together, Torey Wilson (as Cynthia’s son Chris) and Hunter Bartholomew (as Tracey’s son Jason) establish in their characters the kind of high-energy, taunting-and-teasing, dedicated friendship that seems common among young American men. Wilson and Bartholomew bring love to the table in their scenes together, even when conflict is tearing them and their families apart.

Cynthia’s husband Brucie (David Williams) is credibly written as an addict, and Williams employs his charisma to regularly attempt to win over or win back Cynthia. We are also persuaded by the scenes where Williams is overwhelmed with drink or drugs, draped over a table and struggling to communicate. Evan, a prison administrator, is played directly with a dose of compassion by Eddie Spurlock, who helps us understand what has happened to place Chris and Jason in their current predicament.

An understated but compelling performance by Nilo Reynoso in the role of Oscar, a Colombian busboy who longs for a better life but constantly faces pushback, amps up the vivid climax of “Sweat.” I also lift my hat to fight choreographer Joseph Urick, makeup designer Abbey Renae Evans, and scenic designers Julie and Stan Longhofer for bringing more levels of realism to this impressive stage work.

It’s commonplace for me to cast my eyes though the house to see how the audience is responding. Throughout this production, my focus was completely on the stage to the degree that by the time it occurred to me to look around, every figure was bent forward attentively and every eye in the place was riveted to the stage — many filled with tears.

The Details

ICTRep presents “Sweat”
March 27-April 5, 2026, at Oliver’s Place, 2512 N. Oliver St. in Wichita 

General admission tickets are $35. Discounts are available for seniors, veterans, students, and audience members under the age of 30. 

Learn more and buy tickets.

Teri Mott is a writer and actor in Wichita, Kansas, where she covers the arts as a critic and feature writer. She is co-founder of The SHOUT.

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