(from left to right): Tiffany Santiago and Chingwe Padraig Sullivan; Photo credit: Erin Solomon.

Presented by Fresh Ink Theatre
Written by Tara Moses
Directed by Audrey Seraphin
Dramaturgy by Quita Sullivan
Dialect Coaching by Allison Olivia Choat
Intimacy direction by Olivia Dumaine

April 18 – May 3, 2025
Plaza Black Box Theatre
Boston Center for the Arts
527 Tremont St
Boston, MA 02116

Content advisories: Sexual Content, Racism, Fatphobia, some hateful language.

2 hours 15 minutes with one intermission

Critique by Kitty Drexel

BOSTON — Sugar is about cis het sex work. So, we’re talking about cis heteros today. Somebody plan them a parade.  

Sugar by Tara Moses is the intersectional feminism leftists want to see in the world. It is about a young, plus-sized woman of color, Brooke (a heroic Tiffany Santiago), who lives the dream by capitalizing on the unpaid labor she once provided for free to her whiny, white, affluent “friends.” Artist and gig-worker Brooke is besties with Holly (Katherine Callaway, with a discomfortingly accurate portrayal), and the two couldn’t be more different. Holly is slim, blonde, and enjoys all the privileges her moneyed Caucasian looks provide her, such as her rich christian fiancé Will (Matthew Feldman-Campbell, as a himbo who only punches down), a job in an arts-related career, and a hefty family allowance that allows her to keep that arts job. 

Whereas, Brooke lives in an apartment from Hell, works multiple jobs that won’t provide healthcare, and is collapsing under student loan and credit card debt. She dates to supplement her meals, not to find love. Without her neighbor and chosen sister Nina (Tanya Avendaño Stockler, a spark of joy and the shimmering energy boost this production’s pacing needed), Brooke would be homeless and starving. A bestie who wants your labor without reciprocating is not your bestie. 

After one very bad day at the worst job in the world with the most complacent boss in the world (Rob Cope, appearing as multiple smarmy characters), Brooke has reached a breaking point. That is when Nina suggests that Brooke become a sugar baby, a young woman as old as 32 who looks no older than 25 who provides contractual companionship to a much older man in exchange for gifts, travel, and most specifically scads of money. The geezers have the cash and maybe not much else; young women have their looks and personalities. It’s an enterprise that benefits everyone. 

Within minutes of setting up her profile, Brooke gets pinged by Derek (a confident and dashing Chingwe Padraig Sullivan), a handsome millionaire working at Will’s dad’s firm. Derek wants Brooke. Brooke is skeptical but agrees to meet at a nice restaurant. They hit it off, set up ground rules, agree to a contract, and hit the ground humping. Brooke immediately experiences a dramatic shift in her quality of life and well-being. She’s living the good life: student loans paid, a new apartment found, and she’s making art again. All without catching feelings for Derek. It’s a perfect albeit secret arrangement with minimal setbacks… Until her hoity-toity white friends catch on to Brooke’s when career. Like children who’ve lost their favorite toy, these genteel Southern folks don’t take well to Brooke’s newfound physical, financial and sexual autonomy. Hypocrisies and liberations ensue. 

I love (and imagine others will hate) that Tara Moses doesn’t force us to see Brooke perform the sex part of sex work. As Brooke and Nina repeatedly remind us, sugar babies working the Sugar Dish aren’t Julia Roberts; Pretty Woman is Hollywood BS written by and for men. Sugar isn’t about performative sex; it’s about one woman’s liberation through sex work. Sex work is a job like any other job. Society romanticizes it in art because it’s taboo. Yadda yadda yadda.  Last Wednesday night, the majority of the audience (including me) was wildly excited to watch Brooke’s empowerment journey instead of another sex scene written for the same people who’d get horny working at a morgue. 

If anything, sex to appease an audience would stifle the momentum of Sugar. The majority of Sugar is devoted to the important, necessary conversations around women’s autonomy and the hypocrisy surrounding society’s differing reactions to the choices men and women make in sexual relationships. But Brooke and Derek’s conversations negotiating BJs and other acts, including travel and dinner dates, do further the plot and character development. So, we aren’t required to endure the male gaze-y parts of the usual sex work stories. It’s refreshing. 

Stockler and Santiago; Photo credit: Erin Solomon.

Because we aren’t forced to watch sex that’s only sexy for the two involved (because porn sex only exists in porn, and real sex is floppy and may involve farts), Moses skips to the interesting parts such as Brooke’s invisible labor: emotional intimacy, marketing, strategizing, self-care, and financial planning. We learn that Derek is from Oklahoma, and his family still lives on the reservation. We watch Brooke pick up a paintbrush for the first time in forever. By showing us these moments, Moses shows us that the most important duty a sugar baby can fulfill is emotional intimacy. Sugar daddies are lonely, and sex gets boring without emotional intimacy. Brooke’s fully clothed companionship is just as important as her clothing-optional companionship. Unfortunately, other people can’t mind their own damn business. As we find out, christian society gets mighty angry when men are charged a market rate for what they think they should get for free. 

Sugar is in great condition. This play has interesting characters and a substantial story with a satisfying ending. The audience comes to care deeply about Brooke, Derek and Nina. We want them to do well, and we’re happy when they do. 

The first 20 minutes need some light tweaking. It was a full house on Wednesday, so the cast’s energy should’ve been through the roof. Unfortunately, it was sluggish until Stockler hit the stage.

The audience was in a 3/4 formation. We couldn’t hear the actors when they were facing away from us. Please project.

The prop work with a wine bottle didn’t work. Let the wine be open already. Even fancy-pants wealthy employees come home with a half-empty bottle of wine from a swanky corporate event. Waste-not want not. 

Moses asks for some specific stage pictures from her director and cast. Brooke’s trip around the stage in a red dress (Vavoom styled by Malory Grillo) and the successfully awkward golfing scene unfold beautifully. The brief opening scene between Brook and Holly (Holly’s red dress has loose threads at the hem) would work better in a movie. When repeated as an ending button, it’s successful. It’s too rushed as an opener. 

Sound designer Anna Drummond’s collage of stitched voicemails triggered my student loan PTSD in a good way. These recordings made me so grateful to have paid mine off.  

Money does buy happiness. A consistent income that provides shelter, food, clothing, and relative mental health ensures happiness for most folks. The folk adage says it doesn’t, but it does. Theatre people, please consider this when negotiating your contracts. If your gig doesn’t pay you enough to survive with only one other job, then you are being manipulated. Sugar’s Brooke deserved better. We all deserve better. Survival isn’t enough. Go get that cash. 

Addendum:
Dear hardworking Boston Center for the Arts facilities staff: The Plaza Black Box Theatre’s stall-only bathroom smells like something crawled in there, shat itself, died, and has been decaying for weeks in its putrid sewage. (If a mop and a bucket with a bleach cleaning solution were going to solve this one, I imagine your diligent staff would’ve done the job already.) No patron of the arts should have to make peace with their gods ahead of a routine trip to the toilets. For the love of Dionysus, please save us from the smell.

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