Ella Prather and Kaitlin McCulloch Photo by Claudia Hershner

Steph (Ella Prather) is the schoolgirl, wearing a dark plaid jumper and skirt, a white shirt and tie, with her curled hair pulled back with barrettes. We learn that she is nearly 16. She's frantic with fear, searching for her missing friend Charlotte. She wanders into a rundown, empty bar where sardonic Bell (Kaitlin McCulloch) oversees a claustrophobic establishment with zero patrons; she spends her time reading and listening to music. Steph presses her for information about Charlotte, convinced that her friend was last seen entering the bar. Bell feigns ignorance, but we have the feeling that she knows more. But what?

The 75-minute first act trips through a series of conversations that veer between possible truths, lies, and fantasy punctuated by startling periods of lights-out darkness. High-strung Steph is repeatedly reduced to a gibbering child, crouched under a table, rapidly counting numerically as a device intended to calm her frayed nerves. Much of the act is performed with battery-powered lamps the only illumination as context for Bell's made-up stories–or possibly true tales–about what might have happened to Charlotte, each one more dire than the last and each one twisting Steph's paranoia more tightly.

One story describes capturing a man who might have been a perpetrator, imprisoning and torturing him. Another is about two young boys who might or might not have seen something fearsome that attracted their attention. As they explore it, their understanding wanes, and they are reduced to responding with shrugs and nothing more, even as horrific details seem to emerge. Several long monologues by Bell terrorize Steph repeatedly, unsure of whether they are information or invention.

Following intermission, a 20-minute second act plunges into a more a definitive account, possibly of something that actually happened–although the foregoing narratives leave the audience wary of drawing conclusions. Steph mentions visiting a police station, and Bell forces the girl into role-playing and reenactment to dig deeper into possible outcomes. During this action, again plunged into darkness, Prather periodically wanders through the audience in Falcon's small theater space seating only 50 or so people. It's a physical representation of the twisted path Steph is trying to make some sense out of.

Eventually, a few shreds of reality seem to be revealed, and then the play ends–leaving it up to the audience to decide the meaning to be drawn from two hours of contorted stories and angst. The fragmented, non-linear narrative is as disorienting as the random stretches of darkness. It's not an easy show to watch, but certain sad topics are clearly part of playwright Raczka's intention in her script: male violence against vulnerable women, responses to trauma, and how telling stories can lead to both doubt and understanding. This is a tough, teasing piece of theatre to watch.

Director Samantha Joy Weil has found a pair of fine actors to play Steph and Bell. Both are theatre grads from Northern Kentucky University and well suited to their roles. Petite, prim Prather is convincing as a nervous, naïve teenager zealously trying to get answers. McCulloh, a more physically dominant performer, has the more complex role, vacillating from a don't-bother-me adult to someone who seems intent on helping this struggling youngster get through a traumatic experience. Weil ably steers the pair through this wordy, circuitous tale right up to the final revelation of several shocking truths–or should I say seeming truths? It's definitely a provocative piece of theatre.

A Girl in a School Uniform (Walks Into a Bar) runs through February 7, 2026, at Falcon Theatre, 636 Monmouth Street, Newport KY. For tickets and information, please visit falcontheater.net or call 513-479-6783.