Chiara Bian ’29
Staff Writer
The short play “Sugar,” performed in Rooke Theatre on Oct. 24 and 25, explores hidden domestic violence through a seemingly mundane neighborly interaction, and resonated deeply with audiences. Centered on Lilia, who is confronted by new neighbor Jaden’s urgent request for sugar, the production stands out for its experimental staging and emotional depth.
Following the Oct. 24-25 performances of the short play “Sugar,” Director Betty Liao ’27 sat with Mount Holyoke News for an exclusive interview, sharing in-depth insights into the production’s creative journey, thematic intent, design choices and advice for future directors — all while unpacking the story that hides vital meaning beneath a seemingly simple "sugar-borrowing" premise.
To begin, Liao cited the collaborative development of the play’s "circling" climax as the most memorable creative moment. “The original script is [of a] totally different design, as it asks the actors to whisper at this moment. However, I do think this moment is the climax of the whole play, so Lilia and Jaden are on their emotional burst,” she said.
However, the team’s initial plans for a "triangle movement" — right, upstage center, downstage left — did not fall through due to weak visual impact, Liao said. With guidance from Noah Ilya-Alexis Tuleja, a short play festival instructor, the team revised the blocking: Actors freeze, jump to downstage, circle, then return to their original door-side positions.
"We used the last [two] rehearsals to figure out this movement," she said. “I was impressed by the actors of how they used all of [their] energy and switched their emotions so quickly and precisely at this peak moment. And it turned out that our audience love[d] this moment the best in the play,” Liao added.
Liao also opened up about why she chose the “Sugar” script in the first place. Her search for a script with diverse casting and social relevance led her to “Sugar.”
“Sugar is a particularly tricky piece because the two main characters spend most of the time in the play separated by a door, which limits the ways in which the actors can connect and interact,” she said. “However, this challenge also gives me more room to experiment with directing, allowing me to incorporate physicality and experimental elements into what is otherwise a dialogue-heavy play."
Beyond the play’s artistic appeal, its subtle take on domestic violence aligned with her advocacy. "I am deeply interested in issues related to women’s rights and gender equality, and I’ve learned that many people still view domestic violence as merely a form of family conflict. In reality, it is a deliberate act of harm that requires legal intervention,” Liao said. “Through this production, I want to raise awareness that domestic violence is a crime, and to encourage those suffering from abuse to find the courage to stand up for themselves.”
To better convey this theme and enrich the storytelling, the production also featured a series of thoughtful design choices that served its narrative and themes, starting with the absence of a physical door. “The reason for not having a door is that I don’t want to entirely separate the two spaces inside and outside the door with a physical item. The door could be a real door, or Lilia’s door in her heart, and it could also be a door to open her mind,” Liao said.
In addition to the "invisible door," lighting played a key role in signaling tonal shifts throughout the play. A spotlight during the scenes “can make the audience clearly realize that we have entered an imaginative space rather than the real world,” she said. Meanwhile, the final blackout of Lilia’s room before Jaden’s line, "Welcome to your new life," carries weight: “Here, Lilia … no longer belong[s] to her boyfriend,” Liao said.
Makeup, too, proved crucial in filling narrative gaps that the script did not explicitly state. “Although this story is related to domestic violence, no words or phrases related to violence appear in the text. So the bruises on Lilia's face and neck [need] to be particularly obvious, along with some hints in the lines, to make the audience understand that she has been constantly abused by her boyfriend,” Liao said. Notably, a new addition to the original script aided by makeup — Jaden revealing her own scar — reinforces hope: “My design here is that Jaden uses this to comfort Lilia that she was in similar situations, and since Jaden can escape from this nightmare, so can Lilia,” Liao said.
When asked about the play’s thematic core, Liao pointed to a brief exchange between the two leads, in which Lilia and Jaden talk about human nature and helping those who are “sick.”
"Here, ‘sick’ is ‘abused.’” Liao said. "The degree to which society attaches importance to domestic violence is just like treating someone with a cold. As long as one doesn't get close, they won't be affected or "infected"... Although there are many laws now severely punishing the abusers, there are still many people who are suffering from domestic violence and cannot be relieved.”
Finally, Liao offered advice for those who dream of becoming directors but eager to take the first step. For those hesitant to start, Liao stressed preparation and clarity. “I suggest gaining some prior experience before taking on a production [by] enrolling in acting or directing related courses offered at the FMT department. During my sophomore year, I took a directing class and directed a scene from “No Exit,” which was similar in length and cast size to “Sugar.” That experience helped me develop my directing skills rapidly,” she said.
Beyond formal training, she added that core qualities matter just as much: “I believe that being a good director requires strong communication skills, the ability to guide actors effectively, and, most importantly, a clear and confident creative vision. You need to be the person who knows the play best, and someone who truly knows what they want for the show,” Liao said.
Sophie Francis ’28, Karishma Ramkarran ’27 and Quill Nishi-Leonard ’27 contributed fact-checking.