Theater Review: “Mrs. Krishnan’s Party” — Daal M for Merriment

By David Greenham

Let’s face it, we could all use a celebration of renewal and togetherness that crosses cultural (and political) borders.

Mrs. Krishnan’s Party by Jacob Rajan and Justin Lewis. Directed by Justin Lewis. Set and props design by John Verryt. Lighting design by Jane Hakaraia. Costume design by Fiona Nichols. Sound design by Liam Kelly. An India Ink Theatre Company staging presented by Arts Emerson, Jackie Liebergott Black Box Theatre, Boston, through April 7.

Mrs. Krishnan (Kalyani Nagarajan) doing some tasting in Mrs. Krishnan’s Party. Photo: Indian Ink Theatre Company

From the moment you’re led to the entrance of the Jackie Liebergott black box, you  sense something is different. The customary ritual is for a well-meaning volunteer to do their best to point out your seat. But, for visiting New Zealand-based company India Ink Theatre Company’s Mrs. Krishnan’s Party, you’re met by James (Justin Rogers) your broadly smiling and affable host. He wants to know your name, and chatters about his plan for the evening as he leads you to your seat and introduces you to the audience members who are sitting around you. James is dressed in a makeshift, colorful costume inspired by King Mahabali, whose homecoming is celebrated in the Hindu harvest festival of Onam. Tonight, he tells audience members as the evening begins, we’re celebrating the feast of Onam, which is “like Christmas, Easter, and Diwali all in one.”

The catch is that we’re not in a temple or traditional meeting hall, but the back room of Mrs. Krishnan’s Dairy Day bodega, the New Zealand equivalent of a convenience store. James, it turns out, is a college student who is renting a room in the building and has decided to hold a party without telling his overworked landlord, Mrs. Krishnan (Kalyani Nagarajan).

An immersive and interactive performance piece, Mrs. Krishnan’s Party (the run is sold-out) is dramaturgically clunky, raw, silly, and casual. But it’s also charming, caring, hopeful, and surprisingly emotionally rich. Like the delicious smelling red lentil daal that’s prepared, cooked, and served during the show, this entertainment is a satisfying and tasty concoction, though probably not everyone’s cup of tea.

The setting, Krishnan’s Dairy, is familiar ground for the successful India Ink Theatre Company, whose stated goal is to create ‘culturally diverse theatre that combines artful storytelling, mischievous wit and theatrical magic in a way that celebrates our differences but connects us through our shared humanity. This truly unique style promotes community and fosters empathy in audiences across cultures.’ Krishnan’s Dairy was the troupe’s first production and it ran for 25 years, winning numerous awards and traveling throughout the world. This show is a sequel of sorts. It was written specifically for Nagarajan and has been performing/touring since 2019.

At its core, it’s a story of two individuals, James and Mrs. Krishnan, who are both mostly alone in the world. James is a student who aspires to be a DJ; he draws on his indefatigable energy to avoid facing his lack of focus and academic shortcomings. Mrs. Krishnan is a widow; her husband was murdered by an intruder in the dairy. Her son, Abu, is an architect who is too busy and self-involved to visit his mother.

By throwing a surprise party in the dairy’s back room, James hopes to bring the joy of Onam into their lives. As co-playwright Justin Lewis explained in a recent interview, Onam is “a harvest festival, a time of renewal, and what’s remarkable about that festival is that it’s celebrated by all the different religions in Kerala. So, the Christians, the Hindus, the Muslims, everybody celebrates it, and it really brings everybody together. And that’s a lot of what the inspiration for the show is about, it is about connecting people, art, building community, and having a joyous celebration.”

Kalyani Nagarajan in a scene from Mrs. Krishnan’s Party. Photo: Grabb for Excellence

Let’s face it, we could all use a celebration of renewal and togetherness that crosses cultural (and political) borders.

James warms up the audience with silly jokes, music, and encourages everyone to wear a colorful scarf. There’s a little dancing and camaraderie is developed. But, of course, his actions are also calculated to make the crowd a co-conspirator in his scheme.

Predictably, Mrs. Krishnan is livid about the stunt and doesn’t shirk from saying so. No surprise that she soon embraces the situation, and begins to beguile us as she enlists audience members to gather ingredients together  and begin to cook daal for the entire group.

For the genre of interactive theater the experience usually goes no further than this. The actors banter with some of the audience members, which leads to fun hijinks and engagement. But India Ink goes further. After layering on the comic bits, both James and Mrs. Krishnan go through some fully developed emotional dramas. It’s an unusual juxtaposition; broad comedy dovetailed with intimate internal conflicts. That’s the genius of Indian Ink. The characters becomes more endearing, their situations more heartfelt. These revelatory moments add rich flavor to the simmering daal.

Audience members having some fun during a production of Mrs. Krishnan’s Party. Photo: Grabb for Excellence

As James, Justin Rogers is adroitly disarming. He’s almost a caricature at moments, trying way too hard to please everyone at the party. But there is a vulnerability underneath the desperation that is appealing, that encourages the audience to root for him. He’s affable and  — despite considerable insecurity — ever-hopeful.

Nagarajan’s Mrs. Krishnan is a whirlwind of messy, wide-ranging emotions. When the character’s in a rage early on, her words blast by so quickly they’re impossible to make out. But it doesn’t really matter — their meaning is clear. The actress’s improvisational skills are masterful: she effortlessly interacts with audience members, reacting instantly to what she sees or hears and then incorporating it into the action.

The production team of John Verryt (set and props), Jane Hakaraia (lighting), Fiona Nichols costumes), and Liam Kelly (sound), create a unified sense of the mix-and-match aspects of the show’s conceptual eclecticism.

It would be difficult to leave Mrs. Krishnan’s Party without a smile, and convinced that it is a richly entertaining experience. The success of India Ink’s approach is that their lively brand of theater is highly accessible and yet somewhat mysterious. It’s a performance, sure, but it’s also one of the few theatrical experiences where we aren’t just asked to be passive consumers. The show compels audience members to share, amongst themselves, an engaging and enjoyable experience of community. That’s really what theater ought to be about, isn’t it?


David Greenham is an adjunct lecturer on Drama at the University of Maine at Augusta, and is the former executive director of the Maine Arts Commission. He has been a theater artist and arts administrator in Maine for more than 30 years.

3 Comments

  1. Diane Rector on February 25, 2025 at 3:56 pm

    Was a guest this past Saturday at the Kravitz Center. (Hope you come back soon, we want to go again and sit at main table). I can’t really describe it. BUT WE HAD A GREAT TIME!!! It was so much fun! And the food was an unexpected treat, it was DELICIOUS! Thank you for a fun filled fabulous evening!

  2. Monika on April 3, 2025 at 12:15 pm

    Attended the show at the Mondavi Centre in Davis, CA. I do not believe that the Onam festival was represented in any sense (neither attire, decor, food, accent, etc.) because every festival on this planet gets celebrated with a sugary dish at a minimum (Whatever that maybe according to the culture) and no one serves an everyday dish as the main dish at any festival. Consider being in Thailand, and attending a show where the actors are showcasing Christmas and serving guests with bread and butter and calling it a “party”. Would you really consider that an approximation of Christmas celebrated anywhere? The actors did not showcase the accent of the people from that region or opulence of the festival of Onam in any way (neither photos nor music etc.). The concept and the dialogues did not flow or connect (No explanation as to what Mrs. K wanted to do with the ashes that she did not find time to do). In a nutshell, there was gross misrepresentation of a culture/festival/region. Some food ingredients were used without washing. I am completely jarred by such a poor show.

    • PG on April 4, 2025 at 10:34 pm

      Are you sure we attended the same production? Because I thoroughly enjoyed the entire production from start to finish, and can’t even begin to imagine who spat in your cornflakes.

      The show communicated the myth of Onam in several parts. While the explanation was not as in-depth as possible, the storytelling was excellent, and the actors worked their hearts out. They touched on all the dishes that would have been a part of Onam (12). There were many culturally specific details throughout the entire thing, if you were paying close enough attention to get them. This wasn’t an “easy” viewing experience.

      One of the story’s points was that 100 people showed up for a surprise party, and the titular character had no time to prep. So, she settled for something comfortable and familiar (and also happens to check all the boxes of vegan, vegetarian, allergy-free, etc.) so that everyone could partake. Daal is a ubiquitous dish, and often made for large gatherings. You’re assuming things were or weren’t prepped or washed ahead of time. Everything came out of a sealed container. And, it’s a vegetarian dish. Somehow, I highly doubt they would do anything or take any chances that would potentially endanger their audiences. The show has been running for years without issues. So, clearly, it isn’t as big a problem as you consider it.

      Given that this company is from that part of the world, I imagine they understand the cultural implications through their own lived experiences far more than you do. They did a great job with the accents. Mrs. Krishnan had a culturally specific accent (I won’t even begin to try and critique the dialect-specific points), and James had a New Zealand accent suitable to his origins. There were moments I struggled to hear or catch what they said. But that’s the nature of live and immersive theatre.

      This was easily the best thing I’ve seen at the Mondavi Center in a long time. I’m sorry that you had such a terrible experience that goes against all that Onum represents. To the point that you found and chose to comment on an article for when the show was playing in Boston last week. But, honestly, that seems like it might be a problem with you. Not the show.

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