The Fear of 13 would seem to have all the ingredients of compelling theater. It tells the true story of Nick Yarris, who spent more than two decades on death row for a crime he didn’t commit. Starring two-time Oscar winner Adrien Brody and Tessa Thompson, both making their Broadway debuts, the play effectively dramatizes the inequities of the justice system while featuring a moving love story and even some gorgeous singing. Based on an acclaimed British documentary, the production is directed by the great David Cromer. So what could go wrong?
A lot, it seems, since the play, for all its dramatic elements, never coalesces into gripping theater. With its characters more often telling rather than showing, the narrative-heavy evening proves curiously devoid of the necessary tension. When we’re periodically informed how many years have gone by before the next event in the story occurs, we almost feel like we’re experiencing it real time.
Much of the fault belongs to playwright Lindsey Ferrentino (Amy and the Orphans), who did a similarly underwhelming job on the musical adaptation of The Queen of Versailles (perhaps in the future she should refrain from using documentaries as source material). She seems to have taken her cue from the 2015 film of the same name, which was essentially a monologue written and delivered by Yarris himself. While she’s opened up the story to include multiple characters, especially Jacki (Thompson), a prison social worker with whom Nick would fall in love and marry while he was incarcerated, the play too often feels like a one-person show.
[Read David Finkle’s ★★★★☆ review here.]
Brody, who received an Olivier Award nomination for the London production, delivers a charismatic, movie star quality performance that effectively conveys the younger Nick’s drug-fueled foolishness as well as the older version’s despair and mordant humor. But his and Thompson’s hard-working efforts aren’t enough to compensate for the slackness of the writing which too often diverges into cutesiness. For instance, there’s an opening speech by a menacing prison guard that comically juxtaposes the kinds of warnings you’d hear upon incarceration with the typical pre-show announcements about silencing your cell phones, etc. It’s as if the production is trying to assure us that just because we’re watching a death row drama it doesn’t mean there won’t be laughs. Later, one of the inmates performs a soulful rendition of the Temptations’ “I Wish It Would Rain.” The song sounds terrific, which is no surprise since the actor performing it is Ephraim Sykes, one of the stars of the Temptations musical Ain’t Too Proud. But it feels woefully out of place.
You can appreciate the effort to alleviate the heaviness of the material with humor, but it doesn’t mesh easily with such horrific scenes when Nick’s court-appointed lawyer (Victor Cruz, one of several cast members playing multiple roles) informs him that he’s a Christian who supports the death penalty and believes Nick should go to the electric chair for his crime.
For much of the running time, there’s some ambiguity as to whether Nick is indeed guilty of the charge of raping and murdering a woman some twenty years earlier. The play is most effective when it dramatizes the events that led to his conviction, stemming from a traffic stop in which he resisted arrest, and his poorly thought-out decision to plea bargain by pretending to know the perpetrator of the horrible crime that had recently been committed. And you certainly relate to his agonizing frustration when he desperately seeks the DNA evidence that would exonerate him, only to see the process drag out for many years.
But despite its good intentions and powerful true-life story, The Fear of 13 fails to galvanize. It’s surprising, considering Cromer’s directorial talents and the top-notch production values including Arnulfo Maldonado’s multi-level set design and Heather Gilbert’s piercing lighting. Perhaps the play had more impact in the intimate Donmar Warehouse where the claustrophobic physical proximity would have made Nick’s plight more palpable. Here, it feels more like sociology than fleshed-out drama.
The Fear of 13 opened April 13, 2026, at the James Earl Jones Theatre and runs through July 12. Tickets and information: thefearof13broadway.com
