Eliana Willis

As an all-terrain vehicle rumbles through a serene desert valley, its driver unwittingly starts a devastating fire by flicking cigar embers out the window. In another landscape, volcanoes are erupting, acidifying the ocean and threatening the life within it.These scenes unfold on different theatrical stages and in periods 500 million years apart. But both come from productions intended for children, an audience usually left out of the conversation on climate change.“PackRat,” presented by Dixon Place, and “Riddle of the Trilobites,” at the New Victory Theater, convey their messages through protagonists who aren’t human but who gain vivid life as puppets. Carlo Adinolfi, who designed the set, projections and larger-than-life puppetry for “PackRat,” has created amazingly expressive rodents, reptiles, birds of prey, a jack rabbit — and even Cowgirl, the cigar-smoking driver — from wood, papier-mâché, cardboard, wire and, fittingly, recycled trash.Some of the same materials help form the goofier-looking but no less compelling creatures of “Riddle of the Trilobites.” Designed by Amanda Villalobos, the prehistoric arthropods in this show gambol about with googly eyes and flicking antennas and tails. Each production has talented puppeteers who seem not to manipulate these marvelous inventions so much as merge with them.“PackRat,” written and directed by Renee Philippi, who collaborated with Adinolfi in creating it, draws inspiration from “Watership Down,” Richard Adams’s 1972 best seller about rabbits in exile. But this Concrete Temple Theater production offers an allegory more ecological than political. It stars the lowly animal of the title, a hoarder named Bud. After the blaze ignited by the cigar, his fellow creatures banish him, convinced that the human set the fire deliberately to punish Bud for collecting people’s “treasures,” including a spoon and a bag of marshmallows.Accompanied by the jackrabbit Firestone and eventually Happy, another rat, Bud goes on a journey of rescue and redemption, trying to find Artemisia, a land said to be free of human intervention. But despite the stage craft, which is thoroughly mesmerizing, the animals’ odyssey can be hard to follow.Not even adults will immediately grasp that a second, more skeletal set of bamboo puppets is supposed to be enacting dream sequences. And the prerecorded narration and dialogue, both delivered by Vera Beren, have the solemn austerity of an ancient fable. “PackRat,” which includes a wrenching onstage death, will appeal most to theatergoers over 10, who are less likely to be troubled that the wildlife’s arduous story has no clear resolution.But what resolution can climate activists hope for? Prehistoric species saw their environments deteriorate, and we all know what happened to them. Still, “Riddle of the Trilobites,” geared toward a younger audience than “PackRat,” manages to be something unusual: a cheerful, peppy musical about extinction.With a book and lyrics by Geo Decas O’Donnell and Jordan Seavey, and score and lyrics by Nicholas Williams, “Riddle” focuses on the trials of Aphra (Sifiso Mabena), a rebellious adolescent trilobite who learns on her first Molting Day that she’s destined to fulfill an ancient prophecy. She alone can unravel the riddle of her kind: “When the ocean changes, the trilobites cannot live but will not die.”With Judomiah (Richard Saudek), her initially fearful best friend, Aphra embarks on an adventure that is just as dangerous as Bud’s, but leavened with hefty doses of humor — sometimes corny, but still welcome — and rollicking song. (I kept writing “good score” in my notes.) These trilobites’ travels bring them into contact with other creatures, including Hai (Phillip Taratula), an early species of fish. The actors, who talk, sing and frolic while operating the puppets, multitask brilliantly.Directed by Lee Sunday Evans and produced by CollaborationTown and Flint Repertory Theater, “Riddle” dances around — sometimes literally — the ultimate fate of Aphra and her fellow trilobites. But even though the destructive powers of Homo sapiens are millions of years away, the show demonstrates that the ocean is a source of life and its pollution a harbinger of doom. It also cautions against any species’ assumed superiority: When the trilobite elders first see Hai, they lock him in a cage.These productions emphasize that the young must take charge, and that environmental action is desperately needed. As Bud, the beleaguered pack rat, says: “I don’t want to just sit around! That’s what humans do.”PackRatThrough Feb. 15 at Dixon Place, Manhattan; 212-219-0736, dixonplace.org. Running time: 55 minutes.Riddle of the TrilobitesThrough Feb. 23 at the New Victory Theater, Manhattan; 646-223-3010, newvictory.org. Running time: 1 hour 20 minutes. More

Ben Brantley’s review of “The Inheritance” drew more than 100 comments, signaling the strong reactions engendered by the show. (One reader called the play “pompous, elitist, superficial” and “magnetically entertaining” all at once.) Did the show’s impact vary by generation? We put that question to readers of our theater newsletter. An edited selection of their responses follows. (You can subscribe to the free newsletter here).I’ve never felt so personally connected to a play as I did watching this, particularly Part One. I saw myself and many friends in the characters, and as a 57-year-old who tested positive for H.I.V. at 27, I found the focus on the epidemic cathartic and evocative. It was also nice to feel so “seen,” since gay men, particularly white gay men, are sometimes vilified within the L.G.B.T.Q. community these days, accused of not being woke enough fast enough. DENNIS EDWARDS, MiamiWhile beautifully staged and acted, there is not enough there for six hours of theater, at least for an American audience. So much of the material has been done before — “Torch Song Trilogy,” “The Normal Heart,” “The Boys in the Band”— that the first play almost appears to be a revival. Part Two brings us to the present day, but does not and cannot bring us to conclusion. MARY LOU WINNICK, Longboat Key, Fla.As a gay millennial, I’ve never felt a piece of theater heal something in me and break me at the same time the way “The Inheritance” did. The storytelling reaffirms that less is more in an age when more is monotony. RYAN HAMMAN, ChicagoI’m a 31-year-old gay man, and I was interested in seeing the production based on word of mouth and the reviews from the West End. In the end, I had mixed feelings. I enjoyed the play when it was telling the story of Eric and Toby’s crumbling relationship, and was less interested in didactic scenes where the play felt to be in conversation with itself about (to me) well-known history and complaints about “young gays these days.” The end of Part One gave me hope, but Part Two felt to be more of the same: a mostly white, mostly handsome, 30-something perspective. While it was moving to be in a theater with many gay men a bit older than myself who seemed incredibly touched by the play, it didn’t work on me in the same way. KARL HINZE, New YorkI am a 47-year-old woman from Texas. I was captivated from start to finish, even given the length. As someone who was young and not part of the community impacted by AIDS, I didn’t fully grasp the breadth of the suffering. As a mother, I was especially moved by Margaret’s telling of how she came to work at Walter’s home. Most parents can relate to saying things that they later regret and worry about the damage done by their words and actions. AMY HUFFORD, Austin, Tex.Seeing “The Inheritance,” I felt a renewed imperative to open myself to love and to give my love to others, as tricky and scary and messy as that can be. It was no abstract, hypothetical power that the play exercised, either. It has had a direct effect on actions that I’ve taken since I saw it. I can’t say that for the vast majority of theater I have seen. JOSEPH MEDEIROS, New YorkI’m part of the generation of gay men who survived the worst of the AIDS crisis, and frankly I was unprepared for the depth of feeling the play would generate in me. The end of Part One took my breath away, and, as the lights came up, a gentleman two rows ahead of mine turned back to the young men behind him and introduced himself, saying he just felt like he should “say hello, because of the play.” I don’t think I’ve ever experienced anything like that in a Broadway, or any, theater. I won’t forget that moment. HARRY ALTHAUS, New YorkI found it especially poignant to watch while living through our present-day predicament, a society that continues to carve us up based on identity, age, race, preference. Instead, “The Inheritance” shows us how connected we all truly are — and urges us never to lose sight of that connectedness, because in the end we are all just humans looking for a purpose, something to fight for, someone to love. RACHEL DiSALVO, New York More

Theatergoers of different generations have had passionate responses to “The Inheritance,” Matthew Lopez’s two-part play about gay culture and the legacy of AIDS. The show was celebrated in its original runs in London, but the reception has been more divided on Broadway, both among professional critics and regular attendees. While many have found the show inordinately moving, others have criticized a lack of diversity in the central cast and narrow representation of contemporary gay life. We asked Lopez to write about what inspired the play and to reflect on why some audience members don’t like what they see.In March 2018, my play “The Inheritance” began performances in London. Until its first preview, it was anyone’s guess how it would be received. A reimagining of E.M. Forster’s “Howards End” — using three generations of gay New Yorkers to explore class, community and the legacy of H.I.V. — hardly bears the makings of an obvious hit. And yet audiences, then critics, embraced the play.Since then, over 200,000 ticket-buyers have seen the play in its three productions, two in London and now on Broadway. Almost every one of those people, whether belonging to or allied with the L.G.B.T.Q. community, has a story to share relating to its themes. I have heard from many of them — people who, after seeing the play, have healed broken relationships with their queer children, have decided to save their lives by seeking help for addiction, have finally put away their grief over those they lost during the epidemic.My journey to writing it began when I was 15 years old, watching the Merchant Ivory film adaptation of “Howards End.” Somehow a gay Puerto Rican kid from the Florida panhandle was able to see some part of his experience reflected back in the story of the Schlegel sisters. He could identify with scenes of Londoners making sense of life at the turn of the last century, and even find a version of his abuela in the character of Ruth Wilcox.I fell madly in love with Forster that day. We are an unlikely couple. But, besides my marriage, it has been the happiest union of my life. At least Forster doesn’t make me go buy eggs at 7 in the morning.In writing “The Inheritance,” I wanted to take my favorite novel and retell it in a way that its closeted author never felt free to do in his lifetime. I wanted to write a play that was true to my experience, my philosophy, my heart as a gay man who has enjoyed opportunities that were denied Forster. It was my attempt to explain myself to the world as a gay man of my particular generation.I wasn’t attempting to create a generationally defining work of theater that spoke for the entire queer experience. I think that if I had started with that intention, I never would have finished. There are some who feel the play should have done just that, and who fault me for not painting on a broader canvas.Those responses led me to wonder: What do we expect from art, particularly when it is made by members of our own community? And, conversely, what are the responsibilities of artists to the communities to which they belong?Art can be expected to hold a mirror up to society, but it cannot be expected to hold a mirror up to every individual who is engaging with it. Even with its long running time, there is a lot “The Inheritance” does not and cannot cover.No one piece of writing about our complex, sprawling community will ever tell the entire story, and I believe that is a good thing: It creates an unquenchable thirst for more and more narratives — a thirst that has been evident in audiences for “The Inheritance” and a thirst that the theater, television and film industries have been too slow to satisfy.“The Inheritance” was not my attempt at a grand summation of the past quarter century of queer history. What I was attempting was an examination of class, economic inequality, and poverty within the gay community — issues I have rarely seen depicted in theater. I have painted on a broad canvas. It is simply not the canvas others might have chosen.I wanted to write about addiction and alcoholism — a disease I have struggled with, and an epidemic that plagues our community just as perniciously as H.I.V./AIDS did 30 years ago. I also wanted to write about sex: how it can be used as a vehicle for pleasure and intimacy, but how it is also used as a tool to cauterize pain.Such examinations run counter to our current desire for affirmative representation. But avoidance of uncomfortable truths is not the role of the artist. Healing is impossible if you don’t understand the cause of the injury.And while I examine race in “The Inheritance,” it is not one of its central themes. This is a decision for which I have been criticized, but it is a decision that I made consciously as a person of color. It is a consideration that is not asked of white writers, but it is one that writers of color must face with every project we begin.Responsibility to community is the first question we must answer for ourselves. I believe that in writing honestly about my experience as a gay man, I have also contributed one more example of what it means to be a Puerto Rican man.I have been asked by some why I didn’t write “The Inheritance” from a Latinx perspective. It is a question that reveals to me just how far we have to go in understanding the true nature of diversity of expression. I answer: Can you not see how, by virtue of the fact that I have written it, “The Inheritance” is a reflection of a Latinx perspective?It reminds me of Sonia Sotomayor’s formulation that “a wise Latina woman with the richness of her experience would, more often than not, reach a better conclusion” than her white colleagues. Justice Sotomayor is not given only the Puerto Rican cases to decide; she helps decide all the cases. And her decisions are based just as much on her knowledge of the law as it is by her experiences as a Puerto Rican woman.The same is true for “The Inheritance” and me. It is because I am Puerto Rican that “The Inheritance” is the play it is, not in spite of it. Eric Glass, my central character, may be a white man, but he is a white man who was created by a Puerto Rican one. That has fundamentally informed his journey through the play.Others have questioned why there isn’t more representation of the younger generation in the play. It is true that most of the characters are near or close to my age. That is partly due to the function of adaptation — the Schlegel sisters (who became the mid-30s boyfriends Eric Glass and Toby Darling) are, after all, the central characters in “Howards End.” It is also a function of my own perspective. I wrote mostly about people in their 30s because that’s the experience I was living as I wrote the play.There is a reason, however, that I chose to end the play in the future, focusing on the creative output of the youngest and most marginalized character in the play. I end “The Inheritance” with the acknowledgment that the future has yet to be written — and when it is, it will be written by the youngest among us.My hope is that, while not presuming to speak for the younger generation, I have spoken to it, and that its members might come to the play in an attempt to understand the life of someone who came before them, and who, for better or worse, through his words and actions helped shape the world that they will inherit. More