Carlotta Festival of New Plays, 6-12 May 2026
Playwright: Matthew Chong
Director: Andreas Andreou
Choreographer: Samantha Shay
Scenic Designer: Yaya Zhang
Costume Designer: Allison Morgan
Lighting Designer: Amanda Burtness
Sound Designer: Robert Salerno
Technical Director: David DiFabio
Production Dramaturg: Abraham E.S. Rebollo-Trujillo
Fight and Intimacy Directors: Kelsey Rainwater and Michael Rossmy
Stage Manager: Payton Gunner
Assistant Stage Manager: Jiawei Pei
Photography © T. Charles Erickson
Creature-Man: Drew Bos
Jia: Junah Jang
Father Thomas: Rasan Kuvly
Ian: Christopher Thomas Pow
Minsun: Chuja Seo
What Generous Beast
Korean folklore tells of the 구미호 (gumiho), a fox creature with mystical powers. Some tellings, influenced by Daoist thought on the spiritual ascension of beings, feature the gumiho feeding on humans, something it must do to achieve a human form and, subsequently, immortality. Other stories emphasize the gumiho’s anti-divine nature, portraying it killing dragons, divine beings. Foxes in general have negative connotations in the Korean imaginary, historically and contemporaneously associated with corrupt and deceitful politicians, nowadays used as a rhetorical symbol across both communist and capitalist media. And influenced by Buddhist thought, there is also a belief that the foolish are reincarnated as foxes.
Our fox-like Creature-Man is kind, gentle, supportive, validating, encouraging. When he steps into Jia’s life, all her wishes suddenly start to come true. Everything she has ever wanted is within reach, so why not take it? Presented with the chance to save a loved one, go to the school of your dreams, or have the object of your attraction reciprocate your love, wouldn’t you? There’s a caveat. For one to gain, another must lose.
The Creature-Man’s rule, the balancing of scales, complicates things for Jia. The consequences in her world happen quickly and visibly, much more so than in our reality. Gaining becomes an exercise in compartmentalizing, in ignoring the interconnectedness of all things that makes her dreams someone else’s nightmare. This behavior, espoused by many characters in our play, is another loss, a loss of concern for others that accompanies assimilation into U.S.-American culture, a culture that emphasizes striving and individualism over retaining humanity, collectivity, and care.
This phenomenon is drawn from the real experiences of many immigrants who come seeking better lives but instead are confronted with the obligation to lose their cultures, tongues, and customs to achieve the “American Dream.” Faced with the destructive realities of their choices, some of our characters choose to turn a blind eye. After all, isn’t it so much easier to say “fuck you, I got mine” and enjoy our privileges than it is to see the pain that our desires bring to others?
The cruelty and individualism that the characters contend with is something we all confront. In a system where degrees are produced by corporations invested in weapons manufacturing, or where deadly industries pillage the Global South to stock supermarket shelves, or where even nominally humanitarian intentions manufacture consent for imperial interests, does it not become incumbent on us to see others’ suffering and to refuse to accept it as the normal cost of success and comfort?
The gumiho’s offers don’t make it easy, but when it tempts us, we must remember: the final price is our humanity.










