Newcity Stage

Theater, Dance, Comedy and Performance in Chicago

“Windfall” Begs the Question: What Is the Cost of a Life? Tarell Alvin McCraney’s world premiere at Steppenwolf examines the aftermath of a police killing.

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by Amanda Finn
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Two actors stand on a dimly lit stage facing each other, one in a red plaid shirt and khakis, the other in a long dark coat; an audience sits in the background and a person stands at the top of the stairs.

Steppenwolf’s “Windfall,” with Michael Potts, Esco Jouléy and Alana Arenas/Photo: Michael Brosilow

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“Your loss,” reiterated time and time again by characters representing the city, rips through the audience like a viper’s fangs. In the wake of non-binary activist Eli’s (Esco Jouléy) killing by a police officer during a peaceful protest, their father Henri (Michael Potts) hears this biting phrase. It isn’t about what is lost, he explains, it is about what has been taken. The word “taken” sucks the air out of the room, and the audience is faced with the heart of the dilemma—what is the price of a human life?

It is a very real situation in which families find themselves in the epidemic of police violence. Even earlier this year, the Chicago City Council approved a $22 million settlement for the family of Angel Eduardo Alvarez Montesinos, who was killed in a vehicular pursuit accident involving the Chicago Police Department in 2023. The prevalence of police violence in all its forms makes playwright Tarell Alvin McCraney’s work not only timely but necessary. Not just for our society at large, but our own city of Chicago.

According to the Law Enforcement Epidemiology Project, on average, 800 people are killed by law enforcement annually in the United States. That is more than two people every day. Black citizens are more than twice as likely to be killed by police, according to the project. More than that, per data from the project sourced from Cook County and Illinois hospital data from 2016-2025, the injury incidence rate of Black citizens is five to ten times higher than that of white non-Hispanics.

So when we meet Alana Arenas as three different, escalating figures from the city, we know the powers that be want this story to go away. Trying to appeal to different parts of Henri’s life and circumstance, we sit with bated breath, wondering what he will do when that check shows up. All the while, Marcus (Glenn Davis) meanders the stage, seen only by Henri. Marcus was Henri’s adopted son who died but continues to visit his home, keeping his adopted father company. He implores that Henri take the money, better his life.

A man in a black outfit stands on stage under bright lights, looking ahead, while another man sits on a chair in the background. The stage has scattered papers and potted plants, with an audience watching in the darkened theater.

Steppenwolf’s “Windfall,” with Glenn Davis and Michael Potts/Photo: Michael Brosilow

But Henri is not just contemplating this windfall; he is grieving his child, it seems, for a second time. Eli coming out as non-binary was a struggle for Henri. He explains that the last time they spoke, they fought as Henri tried to let go of referring to his child as his daughter. Choking back tears, he practices using they/them pronouns and Eli’s name—rather than the one he gave them when they were born. Their deadname. So McCraney’s powerful new work is not just about exploring the value of a life, but rather, the value we place in ourselves and our place in the world.

As a non-binary character, Eli’s “they” morphs in time from being singular to plural. We, the audience, become “they” as in the wider world. Eli’s Marsha P. Johnson shirt reminds us that the legacy one leaves behind must be picked up by someone. One’s legacy becomes the mantle of many, signaled by the “Eli is everywhere” posters that popped up around the city after their death.

At the center of this moving and sometimes darkly funny story are six actors. Arenas, Davis, Jouléy, Potts, Jon Michael Hill as Nurse/Cori, and Namir Smallwood as Officer/Brother 1. Each and every one of them illuminates the stage brighter than the sea of phone flashlights the characters request near the top of the show. Enraptured in McCraney’s story and Awoye Timpo’s methodical direction, we are reminded through every fourth wall break that we are witnesses. Not to shine our light away from what is happening, but to be in it. To bear witness to the lives of those around us and not be complacently set to the side.

To which the play begs the question again: What is the cost of a human life? Not just in the financial sense, but what it costs us as a community. As a city. And as fellow human beings.

On stage at Steppenwolf Theatre, 1650 North Halsted, through May 31. Tickets available at steppenwolf.org.