Elizabeth Ramos and Jordan Barbour Photo by Joan Marcus

Mindell, a current Columbia University MFA student, was inspired by a question Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Lynn Nottage posed during a class critique–the professor's phrasing now serves as the play's title. True to its academic origins, the script delves into inquiry and debate, tracing the history of shame while ultimately prompting audiences to feel pride. Through Adam 2 (portrayed by multi-hyphenate artist Cody Sloan), the play affirms that identity transcends anatomy, with trans pregnancy framed as an act of artistic creation–fitting for a protagonist who is a potter.

Adam 2's pregnancy coincides with a breakthrough discovery by Eve 2 (Kayli Carter), a geneticist working for the "Eden Project," a medical initiative striving to restore humanity to a flawless, Edenic state. Convinced that people are "perfectable" at the genetic level, the Eden Project removes inheritable traits linked to social hardship. When Eve 2 identifies the genetic marker for gender dysphoria, she offers her brother the chance to spare his unborn child future struggle. Adam 2 powerfully asserts that shame stems from intolerance, not inheritance: "Trans people don't need fixing. We just need help."

Over its 90-minute runtime, On the Evolutionary Function of Shame grapples with gender dysphoria, transphobia, self-harm, eugenics, miscarriage, abortion rights, Alzheimer's and autism. Despite its thematic ambition, the script suffers from wild contrivance. Eve 2, conveniently a leader in genetic engineering, justifies her career as a response to Adam 2's childhood struggles. While the resulting ideological and ethical conflict is compelling, the setup itself feels engineered rather than organic.

Ryan Jamaal Swain and Cody Sloan Photo by Joan Marcus

Visually, the production is sometimes striking, sometimes stilted. You-Shin Chen's scenic design opens with massive, lichen-covered "EDEN" lettering, later flipped into a backyard backdrop for the twins' fraught reunion just outside their father's birthday party. A gleaming white, sterile Eden Project examination room dominates center stage, flanked by open sides for the biblical scenes' stark desert minimalism while forcing awkward, prolonged exits for modern-day characters. Hahnji Jang's costumes highlight the contrast between shame and pride, from Adam 1 and Eve 1's vine-and-fig-leaf attire to Fox's dynamic, high-fashion styling–though Adam 2's perpetually glaze-streaked clothes feel like an over-obvious indicator of his pottery profession.

It is exhilarating to witness such a vital showcase of trans and nonbinary representation on stage. The ensemble deliver passionate yet uneven performances. Sloan and Carter over- and under-emote, respectively, producing sibling tension that lacks genuine spontaneity. Imani Russell brings a measured presence to Margot, Eve 2's pragmatic research partner. As Adam 1 and Eve 1, Jordan Barbour and Elizabeth Ramos oscillate between broad physical comedy and melodrama, making tonal shifts feel more abrupt than fluid. Ryan Jamaal Swain shines as Adam 2's nonbinary partner Fox, delivering one of the play's most absorbing moments in a mini-monologue about their formative summer camp experience. Swain's commanding presence, graceful movements, and layered interpretation compensate for a script that underdevelops their character as a vehicle for Adam 2's arc without fully exploring their own.

Unfortunately, Jess McLeod's direction does little to smooth out the play's weaknesses. A presentational quality pervades the dialogue, with actors projecting lines outward rather than fully engaging with one another. Blocking often feels artificial–whether in a too-obvious symbolic struggle over a pickle jar or a conveniently placed crate collecting shattered pottery shards after a climactic argument. Barbara Samuels and Keith Parham's lighting works with Bailey Trierweiler's sound design to evoke shifts between creation and destruction throughout the dual plot, incorporating footlights and washes, environmental echoes, idyllic birdsong, torrential downpours, and energetic beats to bridge the transition-heavy structure.

For all its flaws, On the Evolutionary Function of Shame is an important work wrestling with the politics of identity and difference at a time when these discussions are increasingly urgent. It challenges audiences to consider whether alleviating suffering means eliminating humanity's capacity to self-actualize and whether so-called "perfection" would erase the very complexities that define us. The play culminates in a "crisis of ethics," landing on a resonant stance defending individuality, pride, and the right to become oneself through struggle rather than erasure. While its writing and staging don't always do justice to its profound themes, its message remains undeniable: there is beauty in difference, and in the hard-fought challenges that shape us.