“Where we are is who we are and this place is all of us.” Arguably the most profound lyrical line in the new work Welcome to Quarantino’s makings its world premiere at Unstrung Harpists. A two-act musical crafted and composed by Evan Crump and Talia Segal, this uniquely inspiring, oddly challenge, slightly absurdist piece of musical theatre examines the crucial component of ‘third space’ and its importance to the human race during those unquestionably difficult times of the global Covid-19 pandemic. Directed by Evan Crump with Musical Isabel Hernandez-Cata, this show has a great deal of heart and is a solid start for its first incarnation on a stage as a fully produced new musical.

Mounting any new work is a challenge in and of itself. Mounting a brand new musical only doubles that challenge. Add to it the fact that the co-creator, musical composer and lyricist Talia Segal, passed away before the show’s completion and the task feels nearly insurmountable. But Evan Crump of Unstrung Harpists, the book & lyrics co-creator and director of Welcome to Quarantino’s has made great strides and successfully gotten the show its feet as a whole story, beginning-middle-end with live pit musicians, a hell of a lot of heart, and great capacity for people to take away a truly moving and relatable experience from its two hours’ stage traffic.

With a minimalist, yet tastefully crafted set, Scenic Designer Cody James brings the audience into Florentino’s, the neighborhood bar, with ease. This serves the show and the audience well as there is a delicate dissolving of the fourth wall near the end of the performance. Lighting Designer Rook Bartlett enhances the atmosphere with carefully timed lighting components, most of which help to keep the play within the line of its own reality. There are absolutely some absurdist components scripted into the production— the most notable one being a character who is somehow outside the realm of the show’s established existence and acknowledges the play as a play but then delves into the play as a character auditioning to be featured in its happenings; it’s all very absurd but given the overall arch of the experience and the actor playing the part, it all comes together somehow. There’s also a shoutout owed to Rachel Smith, Costume Designer, for those purple hygienic jumpsuits, all the random glittery glitz featured on Gillian Shelly, and for the generalized ‘circa Covid’ sartorial selection that gets featured in the show.

Personally what I expected to be a big challenge for this show was two-fold in the sound department. The live on-stage pit (comprised of musical director Isabel Hernandez-Cata on keys, Stan Eldred on guitar, Alex Thanicatt on bass) was not masked or hidden in any way and the performers, given the black box nature of their playing space, are not in possession of mics of any kind. That said, there were virtually no sound issues to be described and that’s a boon that a lot of theatres, regardless of newness of work, struggle to achieve. Hernandez-Cata’s pit was exceptionally well balanced, low but audible, and her riffs and musical Easter eggs tucked here and there into the score were perfectly amusing and cheeky. And the singers— a cast of just seven— could be heard cleanly any time they were singing, and surprisingly enough when they were speaking.

The work itself feels somewhat rough, but not in a bad way, just in a “could use another round of workshopping, some polish, minor edits, etc.” kind of way. The plot and point is solid. Welcome to Quarantino’s does thoroughly explore the importance of that ‘third space’, in this case a local neighborhood bar on it’s last legs and ultimately last night during the pandemic when third spaces had sort of started tentatively returning to us. There are recognizable characters throughout, identifiable ones too where the audiences will readily say “that’s just like me” or “I went through that during lockdown.” The show’s tag— “…lockdown meets last call…” feels highly appropriate too. And as mentioned, it’s got a ton of heart and humor, equally balanced. There are songs where some of the lyrics are clunky or a little too hokey even for the level of pre-established comedy and farce that’s being presented. There’s a song or so where what’s achieved with the song might have been bettered achieved with a scene of connected dialogue. And there’s a lot of excessive repetition, which might have stood strong on its own had it been repeated less. But these don’t make the show bad, they don’t make the show a waste, and ultimately they don’t even detract from the overall experience, they just read as a little unpolished, a little unfinished.

Where Evan Crump and Talia Segal’s work thrives is in its characters, both their dynamics and relationships to other characters in the performance. It helps that the cast of seven are extraordinarily talented. The Denise character basically barnstorms her way into every scene with some madcap comparison of how much of a failure the bar is— “…trying to form a bucket brigade for the Great Fire of London in pub form…” and “…this Chernobyl with a liquor license…” and “…BP oil spill of a tavern…” just to name a few. It becomes its own sort of callback joke for her and you wonder which epic disaster she’s going to drop next. There’s a similar character quirk with the Tad character, who every time someone says the pub’s name, ‘Florentino’s’, he pops up from wherever he’s at with a chipper “Quarantino’s” and it just makes you want to scream “stop trying to make it Quarantino’s happen, Gretchen!” a la Mean Girls. The play chock-a-block with humor like that.

There’s also a richness to the way Mansemble (George Michael Hariss) and Femsemble (Gillian Shelly) are given a good four or five different characters or so and have to hurdle themselves in and out of scenes to play them, sometimes all at once. Understanding how to write that style of comedy is golden and that’s another component to this show that Crump has done extremely well. And then there’s the heart of it. What the tavern/pub/bar/local-alcoholic-watering-hole means to and for everyone there. And the relationships being built there, whether they’re realized or not. Crump does a superb job of letting those moments shine through with all the reverence and respect they deserve, whilst also allowing the maniacal madcap farcical and absurdist components to percolate, bubble, and burst alongside them.

Are you ready to meet the gang? We should start with Abe (Ron Terbush), the tavern owner. Of seasoned years and sentimentality, Terbush’s portrayal of this character is one of the most endearing in the production. Emotionally he’s grounded, and if there’s one character that’s playing in the foundation of heart, it’s Abe. There’s no published song-list in the program, but the song he duets opposite Denise (Shani Nyandemoh) near the conclusion of the show is exquisitely sincere. Enter Denise: the ball-busting, dream-chasing, hard-brassed daughter of Abe, who’s signature callbacks are all tied up in Crump’s metaphor humors. Nyandemoh gets some patter-rap numbers that feel like they’re leaning into Hamilton territory, which are somewhat jarring by comparison to the rest of the musical stylings in the production but Nyandeoh handles them well, with crisp and clean articulation.

Quirky Tad (Niko Crawford) is that young, hopeful bartender, who’s either dropped out of college or is on the eternity-path. The most excellent feature of Crawford’s performance is his physicality, particularly when engaging with Tad’s Girlfriend (as played by Femsemble Gillian Shelly.) He’s got superb comedic timing, a glorious sense of character-driven innocence, and a good sense of spatial awareness. Don’t let him mix you a drink, though.

Margaret (Lila Cooper) and Shelby (Cade MacFee) might be what one would call the B-Plot of a musical, if their existence wasn’t so tangled up in the A-plot existence of this script. Cooper and MacFee are vying for ‘most powerful vocal capabilities’ in the performance, though Cooper’s character has more ballad to lean on than MacFee, but his ‘I’m a Mess’ song (for lack of title) is stellar. Both hold sensational presences on stage, both understand the balance between comedy and sincerity, and both have a wonderfully compassionate embrace of everything that happens in this musical.

George Michael Harris tackles the male-ensemble roles, which include but are not limited to the guy buying the building, the silent barfly, some other guy, and a health inspector who gets a “Power” song that literally has the audience in stitches. His drop-split alongside Gillian Shelly is to die for and leaves your ribs aching from laughing so hard. But it’s actually his emotionally grounded moment near the end that really tugs at the heartstrings and has you misting up in the eyeball department.

Shelly is in a world, category, possibly solar system, all her own. Like a cocained-up feral otter she’s bouncing from character to character and just rabidly unhinging six sorts of spastic energy all over the place. Be it the meta-diva who is THAT actor, and if you’ve ever been an actor or been around them, you know exactly what I’m talking about, or her sex-addicted GF-of-Tad character, she’s got different vocality, physicality, and spatial energies for each. But by far, the favorite character, possibly in the whole show, is her Nell (Nelle?) High-strung would be a polite descriptor. It’s more like a ferret-weasel with a spray bottle of disinfectant and a militaristic programing to defeat all germs at all costs. And it is uproariously hysterical, the funniest character in action you might see all year. Nasal affectation, flawless comic timing and delivery, even a moment of chill sincerity and sincere chillness. Her Nell is superb. Don’t get me started on “Tango of Plagues.” Despite it’s over-repetition, it might be the funniest number in the show.

There are moments of earnest dialogue— the exchange between MacFee’s Shelby and Crawford’s Tad in the first act coming immediately to mind, followed by Cooper’s Margaret showing Terbush’s Abe what they managed to actually achieve in the end— there are moments of true heart and earnest emotion that really remind the audience what it was like during those times, how important it was to be there for one another even if our time in those third spaces were limited. And if nothing else, it’s got Gillian Shelly in feral animal form. Welcome to Quarantino’s deserves support, has a lot to offer, with a lot of potential percolating under its barstools, and will give you a good laugh if noting else this fall.

Running Time: Approximately 2 hours and 20 minutes with one intermission

Welcome to Quarantino’s plays October 30^th to November 8^th 2026 with Unstrung Harpists at the Black Box Theatre of Tatem Arts Center at Hood College— 410 Hood College Drive in Frederick, MD. All performances are Pay-What-You-Can and tickets are available at the door or in advance online.

SEATING IS LIMITED. ADVANCED BOOKING IS STRONGLY RECOMMENDED.

To read the interview with Director-Creator Evan Crump, click here.