‘Like Father’ at the Alliance Theatre

The Alliance Theatre’s world‑premiere musical Like Father arrives on the Hertz Stage with a premise that could have easily collapsed under its own topicality: a teenager forced to confront her father’s crimes just as a true‑crime podcast turns her family’s history into public property. What keeps the show from tipping into sensationalism is the sheer caliber of its cast. This is a uniformly superb ensemble, and the acting throughout is sharper, deeper, and more lived‑in than the genre usually invites.

At the center is Sophie Pollono as Chris, delivering a performance of startling emotional precision. Her work is so grounded, so unforced, that it recalls the kind of stage truthfulness Amanda Plummer brought to The Glass Menagerie in the mid‑1980s — that rare combination of fragility and ferocity that makes an audience lean forward. Pollono’s Chris isn’t simply reacting to trauma; she’s navigating the slow, public erosion of her identity, and the result is one of the most arresting performances Atlanta has seen in years.

The story follows Chris as she moves in with her estranged mother Michelle after her father’s arrest. The podcast that dredges up the past is never treated as a clever device; it’s a blunt instrument, flattening real lives into cliffhangers. The show’s most honest moments come when Chris realizes she isn’t just living through her father’s downfall — she’s living through its syndication.

The ensemble around her is equally strong. Hannah Elless’s Michelle is a portrait of someone who has spent years trying to outrun a story that keeps catching up. Benjamin H. Moore and Billy Harrigan Tighe offer quieter, steadier turns that help the musical avoid the trap of making every adult either complicit or broken. Frankie Rodriguez and Charity Angél Dawson round out the cast with performances that resist caricature, even when the script edges toward familiar beats.

Although the singers deliver uniformly excellent vocal performances, the music itself doesn’t always deepen the show. Several numbers feel stylistically familiar, as if borrowed from other folk‑pop musicals, and the score rarely lands a moment that lingers after the curtain call. It’s polished and pleasant, but not particularly memorable — more supportive than distinctive.

Like Father occasionally struggles with balance, especially when it wanders toward the mechanics of the podcast or the specifics of her father’s crimes. But when it stays anchored in Chris’s perspective, the show becomes something sharper and more resonant — a study of what happens when private pain becomes public property.

Created by Jacob Ryan Smith. Book, Music, and Lyrics by Jacob Ryan Smith and Caroline Pernick. Directed by Tinashe Kajese‑Bolden.