Stories Will Not Mend This Broken World
Written by Will Johnson; directed by Handan Ozbilgin
Brick Aux | 628 Metropolitan Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11211
October 30 – November 15, 2025
Will Johnson, the playwright of Stories Will Not Mend This Broken World takes the audience on a poignant journey, one which is not only timely, but forces myself and those around me to interrogate the significance of storytelling - and perhaps its apparent futility in the face of devastation.
The Brick Aux in Williamsburg is transformed to a green room in Istanbul, where we get a glimpse into the playwright’s own experience visiting Turkey following the shocking 2023 earthquake. The play speaks of the ripple effects of devastation, the fragility of the world we live in, and how spoken language isn’t always the way in which we can reach each other.
Each actor’s performance is stunningly grounded, and every character moves through the space in a way in which ‘real’ actors celebrating after a show would. The cast, featuring Francisco Arcila, Ed Cardenas, Doga Ozbilun, Defne Ozkan and Gamze Celik all connect and disconnect, argue and make up in magnificently complex and organic patterns in front of our very eyes. Moments of song and dance allow these actors to reach out to each other in ways that words can’t always do; Turkish, English and Spanish all move through the air throughout the piece.
The conversations that take place in this green room, the whispers in the hallway outside, the silent chatter when they step out for a smoke, position the audience as witnesses to the action. The staging turns us into silent participants - as many of us tend to be when tragedy strikes far from what we consider home.
At the last moment of the show, the characters invite us in to think about our greatest hopes, and our greatest fears. The room is plunged into darkness as we hear whispers all around us, barely discernible, yet understandable all at the same time. We know what these characters are wishing for. We don’t need to hear the exact words to understand them.
For me, as a playwright, one of the most striking moments of the show included the quote I’ve written at the beginning of this review. A moment where a character, in an outburst of pain and anger, says all artists do is feed on pain. When something catastrophic happens, what do we do? We write a play. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing in a moment of self-recognition. That’s exactly what I do. Many of my peers feel the same way. Some of our best writing emerges from moments of mental anguish, and I’ve been thinking about this question ever since seeing the show. At what point does our practice become exploitative? How can we ensure that the stories we tell are helping us to understand each other, rather than shedding light on horrific cruelty, and moving on once the show is over?
Perhaps I’ll never be able to answer that question. But, I also believe the most impactful plays are ones I think about when I go back to my own writing. This play was absolutely one of them. The acting, staging, atmosphere, even the way the words hung in the air was magical. The transformative nature of this piece was so impactful, its dramatic question has followed me since I left the theater, and I know it will follow me long into my artistic journey.
Review by Niranjani Reddi.
Published by Theatre Beyond Broadway on November 17, 2025 All rights reserved.
