‘Painted Ponies’ delivers a powerful portrait of grief and hope
Rachel Sorsa in Painted Ponies (Photo by Keith Stevenson)
The world premiere of Ian McRae’s powerful 80-minute, one-woman play, “Painted Ponies,” superbly directed by the award-winning Elina de Santos, features one of the year’s outstanding performances.
Award-winning actor Rachel Sorsa transforms herself into Pam, a single, 60-year-old mother who has spent the past 24 years wrestling with horrendous grief, guilt and regret after the abduction of her 6-year-old son sent her life spiraling into a tailspin.
“Painted Ponies” deserves an extended run.
It would be great to see it run in repertory with the Ruskin Group Theatre’s other remarkable production, “Grangeville” by Samuel D. Hunter.
This is L.A. theater at its best.
It is also theater built through a deep collaboration among playwright, director and actor. There isn’t a word that doesn’t belong in McRae’s play. The dialogue is exceptional.
McRae is also an actor who studied with Sanford Meisner. He served as his assistant and apprenticed with him at the Neighborhood Playhouse, where he later taught. McRae and John Ruskin went through the two-year actor training program together in 1985.
Perhaps it is McRae’s grounding as an actor that helped him create this totally believable character and dialogue.
It was de Santos who brought Rachel Sorsa to the project. It helps that the two have a long personal and professional relationship.
“When I saw them go to work, I was really surprised,” McRae said. “I thought this is really going to work.”
A great example of play development and collaboration, “Painted Ponies” was originally presented at the 2024 Fringe Festival. In 2025, it was presented for one weekend at the Ruskin Group Theatre.
With only 10 days of rehearsal, including tech, they opened this world premiere. Together, they handled the dramaturgy and cut 10 minutes from the original script.
It is a roller coaster of raw emotion, and it is not an easy play to pull off. Director de Santos’ choice to anchor Pam to her couch allows the audience to focus completely on her: a terminally ill woman recording a video for her son in the hope that he is alive and will someday find it on YouTube.
De Santos has worked her magic here, guiding Sorsa through one of the most remarkable character studies I have ever seen. It is not often that you have an opportunity to witness this level of acting.
“Elina knows how I work. I work hard,” Sorsa said. “Working with her, I feel safe. It’s personal and intimate. She’s smart. She would come to rehearsal asking me, ‘What do you need from rehearsal or from me today?’”
Award-winning sound designer Jeff Gardner gives us the haunting sounds of children playing and laughing, along with a carnival merry-go-round in the background as the play begins. He continues to punctuate the production with unsettling sounds throughout.
“Michael Redfield, the lighting designer, has used very subtle changes in lighting that serve the play, but those changes also inform me as an actor during performance,” Sorsa said.
The set is small, intimate and minimal. Bruce Burn’s props include a couch, a bed, a coffee table and several smaller tables. Prescription bottles sit on one table. A pack of cigarettes, papers, a bottle of wine and a wine glass rest on the coffee table. A tripod holding an iPhone faces the couch. Everything is carefully placed.
Pam settles onto the couch and begins recording a message for her abducted son, which she plans to post on YouTube in the hope that he may someday find it. It is a message in a bottle thrown out into the world in the hope that he is still alive.
Hope.
An estimated 460,000 children are reported missing every year.
We witness the struggles and love of a mother haunted by her past mistakes. She shares the story of that fateful day and of the life she has lived since. Her message is a deeply felt plea to her son that grapples with life’s larger questions of chance, fate, guilt and hope.
It is a rare portrait of a woman who has tried her best to be human in a deeply inhumane and cruel world. It is a visceral experience for the audience.
The play is also an unflinching look at how a mother can be permanently haunted by the weight of guilt and regret over a single, momentary mistake.
McRae uses the circular imagery of a merry-go-round to symbolize the unpredictable and repetitive ups and downs of life that we must navigate blindly.
Despite 24 years of silence, Pam’s ultimate refusal to give up shows that hope can survive even in the darkest realities.
The final line of the play is: “I never lost hope. I ran out of time.”
This is definitely not to be missed.
It is my hope that this production will be extended. Check with the theater for updates.
The final performances of “Painted Ponies” are currently scheduled for Saturday, July 18, at 5 p.m. and Sunday, July 19, at 4 p.m. at the Ruskin Group Theatre, 2800 Airport Drive, Santa Monica.
For tickets and information, call 310-397-3245 or visit ruskingrouptheatre.com.