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Philly Fringe 2025: Philly’s Medicare for All Movement presents Healthcare Is a Human Right!

Philly Fringe 2025: Philly’s Medicare for All Movement presents Healthcare Is a Human Right!

A lobby display at the Louis Bluver Theatre gives a preview of ‘Healthcare Is a Human Right!’ (Photo by Alaina Johns.)

By: SaraKay Smullens for the Broad Street Review

Three weeks before I walked into Healthcare Is a Human Right!, a Fringe show created by artists of Philly’s Medicare for All Movement (a grassroots healthcare advocacy group), I spent eight hours overnight in one of our city’s ERs. In the hopelessly crowded scene (thanks in part to the closure of Philly’s Hahnemann Hospital, whose ER served many Medicaid patients and uninsured people), I filled in for absent social workers and got splashed by vomit.

The US is the only country of its kind that doesn’t provide healthcare for its citizens, relying instead on a for-profit healthcare system and gouging insurance companies that produce rampant health disparities and disability injustice. So I was glad to enter the Louis Bluver Theatre for a Fringe show exposing the dangers of our cruel, discriminatory, totally broken healthcare system.

This moving and riveting interdisciplinary performance, featuring Genise Paige Deal, Aster Laevis, Oliver Jane Jorgensen, Tina Hulping Zhong, and Juniper Sweeney, used creative visuals and primitive yet effective sets. Incorporating actors, puppetry, audio, and projected video, the show introduces a cast of crawling animals, like roaches, ants, and caterpillars. Maimed and blinded by environmental conditions enhancing corporate wealth, these animals represent us.

In the following sequences, successfully inviting audience participation, We the People in the audience were encouraged to wave protest signs, sing along, cheer, yell, wave, hoot, and holler. Which we did.

A former Temple professor of emergency medicine in the audience, Dr. Joe Lex, volunteered for a sequence in which he advocated for an imaginary patient with the head of the Department of Go Fuck Yourselves (representing an insurance company), where he held his own with steely grit. In another segment, audience members shared their own experiences of care withheld, confusing insurance policies, and relentless forms.

Compounding the crisis, Congress has acted to further limit access to healthcare. It seems that our 47th president will do whatever possible to destroy the Medicaid that millions of Americans depend on.

In their materials, the show’s creators quote attorney Ady Barkan, a healthcare activist and cofounder of the Be a Hero PAC, who died in 2023 due to complications of ALS: “There is nothing more wildly expensive and wasteful than our current for-profit healthcare system. Private health insurers price-gouge, defraud taxpayers, and deprive patients of care at every level. We deserve #MedicareforAll.”

This reality and all we are up against make the bravery of the Healthcare Is A Human Right! artists even more noteworthy. They cry out for the necessity of humanity in our beloved, vulnerable democracy. Through tortured examples, veiled in humor and metaphor, they warn that our country will not survive without universal health care. Withholding vital, life-affirming services and protections is a death sentence to all but the exceedingly rich and powerful.

This group deserves a standing-room crowd! Give them an hour for their remaining performance on Saturday, September 6, and the reward will be yours. After their understated curtain call, speaking with the artists, I learned that they each have demanding jobs—in social work, street fundraising, flower arranging, concierge services, and graduate studies. Their gift to the Fringe, and to each of us, done in their spare time, offers not only hope, but opportunity for action. They urge us to join them.

Our Ancestors Were Immigrants, Too Curio Theatre Company presents Hannah Moscovitch’s Old Stock: A Refugee Love Story

The opportunity to review this riveting theatrical experience for BSR meant a great deal to me, especially at this dangerous time.

Our Ancestors Were Immigrants, Too
Curio Theatre Company presents Hannah Moscovitch’s Old Stock: A Refugee Love Story

Jack Taylor and Alana Kopelove in Curio’s ‘Old Stock’. (Photo by @rebeccagudelunasphotography.)

By: SaraKay Smullens for the Broad Street Review

As a Jewish woman, I approached opening night of Old Stock: A Refugee Love Story, now getting its Philadelphia premiere at Curio Theatre Company, with trepidation and a heavy heart. Could I objectively assess this love story about a young Romanian man and woman who meet on Canadian shores, seeking refuge from the horror of the pogroms?

Especially as Passover descended, I wondered if I would have rose-colored glasses for the Curio artists and Canadian playwright Hannah Moscovitch, who is a descendent of her play’s female protagonist. Once again, the world has gone mad: sympathy for the Palestinians has evolved into justification for the actions of Hamas, and condemnation of Israeli policies has morphed into the latest worldwide epidemic of antisemitism. Would I lose my concentration to an internal scream of hold on, be strong, cling to each moment of life, embrace reason, and communicate hope, despite all?

An immigrants’ Our Town

In the first moments of Old Stock, an utterly non-syrupy love story, my anxieties about objectivity evaporated. I saw clearly that it’s beautifully, authentically written and portrayed. It’s like a profound, disorderly, delightful, fun, spirited Jewish rendition of Thornton Wilder’s 1938 Our Town—which, like Old Stock, underscores the preciousness of life through a wise, ever-present narrator who weaves together both tragedy and hope. Here our narrator is The Wanderer, in a deep, mighty, intriguing performance from Paul Harrold. He uses the joys of punk Klezmer (written by Ben Caplan and Christian Barry) to tell the story of Chaya (a talented, versatile Alana Kopelove) and Chaim (an endearing, multifaceted Jack Taylor).

The story of Chaya and Chaim is not about a couple who fall in love because they see each other as perfect—and then, if their marriage is to survive, learn to face that each surely is not. The couple meet in a special line for immigrants suspected of illness: he may have contracted typhus, which he plays down as a rash; and she may have tuberculosis (her sister has it, but Chaya is sure her own ailment is only a cough). Death and profound loss have been their only constant, and yet they live. Chaim is immediately attracted to the older Chaya, but she is initially barely responsive, having lost her husband and their baby from starvation on their treacherous journey. As a further deterrent, she is open about her every flaw.

Chaya had a strong attachment to her husband and remains in profound mourning for him and their child. Chaim, who lost his entire family in the pogroms, is alone. Although this theme is not well-developed, not only is Chaim attracted to Chaya, but also to her large, caring family. He persists in his marriage proposals and Chaya finally acquiesces. Their wedding night is a fiasco of jealousy and displaced, understandable pain, yet they cling together. Because neither is mean-spirited or unkind, and both are giving, their relationship thrives. They grow to love, and many children are born.

Remembering our immigrant ancestors

With the “Old Stock” reference in title and text, director Rachel Gluck highlights resistance to immigrants in Canada, a reality seen internationally. She hopes that the hunger and loss portrayed here will strengthen our resolve not to “succumb to the forces of nationalism and xenophobia that seek to dehumanize each new generation of immigrants and asylum seekers.” She notes the rejectors have “perhaps forgotten that their ancestors were immigrants as well.”

The show boasts an impressive set design by Curio artistic director Paul Kuhn, known for his devotion to reused materials, in the company’s black-box home in the lower level of Baltimore Avenue’s Calvary Center for Culture and Community. The space has some acoustic limitations: it was easy to hear Kopelove and Taylor as Chaya and Chaim, but some musical lyrics floated into oblivion, especially when The Wanderer’s back was turned. Some may find the lyrics lewd. I found them a delight.

Old Stock: A Refugee Love Story is a moving and uplifting production, especially meaningful during the Passover holiday, where repeated stories continue to provide insights and offer hope. Gift yourself with tickets.