Your Chicago Guide’s tickets for two to the press viewing of Windfall courtesy of Steppenwolf Theatre.
Steppenwolf Theatre Company continues its 50th Anniversary Season with Windfall, a gripping communal experience crafted for this moment by Academy Award-winning ensemble member Tarell Alvin McCraney. Directed by Awoye Timpo, the play is currently on stage through May 31, 2026 in the Ensemble Theater.
This is a story about money. Don’t let them fool you otherwise. When a Chicago father loses his child in a clash with the police, he is visited by three strangers who advise him to take the city’s cash settlement, relocate and forget his grief – or else remain, haunted by memories of the world his child fought so hard to protect. This lyrical world premiere is a vital and timely look at the spirit of activism set against the most indifferent system of them all: the almighty dollar.
Steppenwolf Artistic Directors Glenn Davis and Audrey Francis comment: “When we commissioned ensemble member Tarell Alvin McCraney to write a new play specifically built for our in-the-round Ensemble Theater as a centerpiece of Steppenwolf’s 50th season, we weren’t sure what he’d create. But, given that Tarell is one of the most talented writers of his generation, we were not at all surprised that he delivered a stunning, lyrical and undeniably bold script. This is a play for our moment, for our city, tailor-made for an ensemble cast and this unique venue. We eagerly anticipate sharing this vital Chicago story with our community.”
The production blends hyper-realistic social commentary with elements of magical realism and whimsical storytelling. The title itself is a bitter irony—the “windfall” is blood money offered to quiet a grieving family. McCraney uses the narrative to tackle systemic issues, including the friction between political activism, state violence, and the pressures of toxic capitalism, all while asking a haunting question: what is the actual monetary value of a life?
“I often talk about the spiritual aspects of theater — that we come into a room and we believe together, and therefore an act of faith is happening,” McCraney said. “In this play, we’re interrogating what we believe. And we believe as a society more than anything that money cures more things than we’d like to admit.”
We are sitting in the dark. Three performers stand around the stage, speaking to us about love, warmth, song, and light. The actors place signs with various slogans and advertisements on the walls, on the floor, on the stage. As we struggle to read the messages, we are inadvertently (but purposefully) are part of the fabric of the story itself. We are involved. The lines are blurred. The audience is encouraged to pull out their phones and to illuminate the darkened theater. Suddenly, we are surrounded by the light we brought ourselves, lighting one another—until the singing stops. Until everything stops.
What do cities actually do when a public servant’s violence ends in the death of a citizen? Not theoretically—practically. It turns out major American cities budget for this exact eventuality. There is a line item set aside to settle with families whose loved ones have been killed or maimed by civil servants. There is no equivalent line item to prevent it. The money exists because it is expected. Because it is predictable. Because it is built into the civic machinery that runs this country—the same system that replaces broken streetlights and clears parks of litter.
The father stands with the letter in his hand. It is not delivered in person—just dropped in the mail. They shot his child. The city offers compensation. As he stares at the letter, stunned, as it rips him open while others urge him to take the money, he breaks walking offstage. The letter, he tells us, did not even say, “I’m sorry.”
Meanwhile, the city is threatening to seize the father’s fully paid-off home for unpaid property taxes in order to build mixed-income housing. He may lose the house he already bought, only to be relocated into an apartment built on the same land. Except he cannot qualify for that apartment because the police labeled his dead child a criminal. With a “criminal case” in the family, he would be disqualified from living there. They have not even returned the body for burial.
So, does he take the settlement? Do you accept the thing you hate? The money meant to replace your child? Do you choose financial survival over moral revulsion? Do you sacrifice dignity to preserve the future? Is this what it costs to climb? There are no answers. Even the audience splits, my seat neighbor shouting: “No, don’t take it!” while other chant: “Take the cash!”
Dont let us spoil the ending for you. Consider: what would you do, if it happened to you? The dilemma is palpable and tense, sucking the audience in like a vortex. Two hours are gone in a blink of an eye. No answers, just questions. What would you do?
Windfall is now on stage at Steppenwolf Theatre, 1646 Halsted Street, in Chicago’s Clyburn Corridor. For tickets, please visit the box office here.