The Cast Photo by Scott Lasky

(Please note upfront that because I was not available until near the end of the run, this is a review of the final dress rehearsal as approved by Palo Alto Players.)

In early 2000 in a local bar ing Reading, Pennsylvania, three quite drunk but happy women are celebrating a birthday. They have been friends since childhood and have been working together at the local Olstead Steel Mill for over twenty years. Along with the bartender, Stan, they complain about the grandson of the original plant owner who now runs the plant "stuffing his pockets rather than improving the floor" and about the plant's managers who "don't want to get their feet dirty, their diplomas soiled with sweat, or understand . . . the human cost of their shitty product." <>P>In subsequent scenes, we hear from the women and two of their sons who also work at the steel mill that, though they have plenty of complaints (bad backs and foot blisters from ten hours a day standing, hands frozen by end of day, etc.), working at the mill is in something that gives each of them much pride–especially being on the floor itself.

When Tracey's son, Jason (Will Livingston), hears that his best buddy, Chris (Cynthia's son played by Adam C. Torrian), is planning on going to college in the fall, he tries to persuade him instead to stay and work for the promised pension and then to retire so they can jointly own a Dunkin' Donuts. After all, what better dream could they ever have as two life-long pals? But Chris somehow sees writing on the wall–perhaps because his now-homeless, often drunk or drugged father Brucie (Anthony Hayes) has been locked out of a local textile mill for 93 weeks. To the coaxing Jason he says, "Punch in, punch out, and at the end of the day you end up with a box of donuts and diabetes."

The gruff but jovial bartender Stan (Scott Solomon)–who looks after his drinking and drunk patrons like a guardian angel–has a bad limp from an accident at the plant that was caused by faulty equipment. Even after twenty-eight years of his service, no one in management ever cared to come see him in the hospital or "look me in the eye, say thank you." Stan is the one who first rails against NAFTA, predicting to his still-disbelieving patrons, "You can wake up tomorrow, and all your jobs are in Mexico." When a couple months later reality hits of an announced 60% pay cut with fewer benefits and more hours along with a promised lockout for anyone not accepting the so-called offer, no one in the bar of the previously frustrated, now-angry patrons can argue with one expressed sentiment, "You are dealing with vipers."

The real power of the stories we see unfolding is understanding first-hand the cost to the lives of people we get to know, beyond cut salaries and lost jobs. Prejudices erupt against a friendly attendant in the bar, Colombian American Oscar (Aaron Edejer), who–even though born in this country–is accused of being here on his green card to take away the jobs of real Americans. Long-time friends who have been like family–friends both white and Black–blast with hateful racial accusations when one who is white (Tracey, played by Amy Meyers) is convinced she is overlooked for a promotion because her best friend is Black (Cynthia, played by Kimberly Ridgeway).

Individuals bemoan what is happening to their community with all these newcomers ("Olstead is not for you"), and they long for the old days "when you got dressed up to go shopping" and when "if you worked with your hands, people respected you." Divisions begin to appear among both friends and family members, with dire consequences spiraling out of control due to emotions gone ballistic.

And even as long-held relationships fall apart amid back-and-forth blaming and even as drink-infested emotions explode with dire consequences, we find it more and more difficult to point to who is at fault for how they feel or how they react. These are people who have been stopping by after work for years to have a drink or two (or ten) at their favorite watering hole and who have built a family with each other and the bartender. Their emotions are often raw but are always real. Their views are sometimes scarred by rumor, hurt, or downright prejudice but are also expressed in ways we too feel the root and want to know better the cause. While we may not like all we see and while the play is not always pleasant to watch, we cannot help but care and feel empathy for each of the individuals we meet.

ShawnJ West displays a deeply innate understanding of the people we meet in this Reading bar, for the play's direction is both hard-hitting and heartfelt. The well-stocked bar itself feels familiar, with its pool table, jukebox, dart board, and neon beer signs (all created by scenic designer Kevin Davies and props designer Greet Jaspaert). Tunes of the times pipe in along with scene-transitioning news clips of the era (weather, news headlines, sports) as sound designed by Gregorio Perez. Special kudos go to Kristen Matia and Adam C. Torrian as fight director and fight captain, respectively, for creating a climactic scene that feels so real, it's difficult to believe no one is carried off on a stretcher.

We leave Sweat wondering how has the Democratic Party–the one these union members and their parents and grandparents probably supported for decades–failed for so long to listen to people like these much in the same way that Lynn Nottage (and maybe Trump) did. The stories she displays before us on Palo Alto Players' stage do not offer definitive answers of who is right or wrong in the great, current divide of our country. However, they do provide much fodder for self-reflection and for a search for needed empathy for those on the other side of that now hardened divide.

Sweat runs through June 29, 2025, at Palo Alto Players, Lucie Stern Theatre, 1305 Middlefield Road, Palo Alto CA. For tickets and information, please visit www.paplayers.org or call the Box Office at 650-329-0891.