By Isadora Zucker ’25

“When times are tough, we should make art.”

These are the words director Nina Renkert ‘25 used to introduce her show Layla’s Room, written by Sabrina Mahfouz. Performed on November 11th and 12th in Skidmore Theater’s Studio A, Layla’s Room is a powerful story of a teenage girl dealing with the aftermath of the bullying and harassment that she faced in school. As a quick preface, please know that this article will discuss themes of bullying, sexual assault, and suicidal ideation; if you are sensitive to any of those topics, please treat yourself with care and know that these themes will be present in this article.

When first walking into Studio A under an archway of string lights, the audience was immediately immersed into the cozy room of Layla (Lila Sandler ‘27) as she danced around the stage doing small tasks to pass the time. The scene felt truly domestic and honest to the life of a teenage girl; posters, flower decals, pictures, and small pieces of memorabilia were hung on the baby pink walls and strewn around the space, creating a truly lived-in feel. Also on stage were the two other actors in the piece, one of whom played both Layla’s best friend Monica and Layla’s Mother (Emma Froelich ‘25), and the other who played two of Layla’s male classmates, Reece and Joe (Sydney Mann ‘27). Once the audience was fully seated and the lights dimmed, all three actors rose, with Layla standing center stage as the other two circled around her. As the circling action continued, the two other actors slowly changed their demeanors from a loving, supportive pair to a more hostile force, slowly cornering Layla as a low buzz started to drone ominously.

Once Layla began to speak, the room faded back into the same warm, nostalgia-like image that
was seen during the pre-show. Layla started off the show by introducing herself, welcoming the audience into her space and briefly warning that she has a tendency to get ahead of herself when speaking. She then gradually introduced the other characters, painting fond memories of her mother and best friend Monica, giddily recalling interactions with her crush Reece, and explaining the unfortunate appearance of Monica’s soon-to-be boyfriend Joe. The tone was conversational, and as an audience member, I truly felt as if I was simply having a conversation with Layla.

As the show progressed, we learned more about Joe and his influence on Layla’s classmates. For instance, upon learning that Layla’s mother is a lesbian, Joe began to harass Layla, pointedly poking derogatory and homophobic comments towards both Layla’s mother and her friendship with Monica. Monica, who was at this point is officially dating Joe, brushed off the comments with a typical “boys will be boys” type of excuse. Even though Layla did stand up for herself and her mother, the strength she displayed only seemed to encourage Joe more, as he eventually moved onto more consistent and aggressive forms of belittling Layla; from snapping her bra straps from behind to making kissing faces towards her in class, Joe’s small but impactful actions began to wear Layla’s strength down. Though other classmates such as Reece began to take note, no action was taken, as these small occurrences of casual harassment were brushed off as harmless, boyish teasing.

At this point in the show, the narrative truly started to shift, which was reflected in the design
choices and choreographed elements. The lights (designed by Lu Glassberg ‘26) which had started as
warm orangey-pinks, began to transition into stark blues, highlighting the way that Layla’s perception of
safety and confidence was beginning to crack. The sound design (done by Elena Charla ‘26) reflected this as well, as the low buzzy static heard in the beginning of the show started to return during moments of tension.

Things began to escalate to more severe forms of sexual harassment when Joe and some of his
friends followed Layla home from school one day, eventually ambushing her and dragging her into
nearby bushes to try and grope her. This, and the few other scenes of explicit physical assault in the show were performed in a stylized, dance like format, both highlighting the way that traumatic events like sexual assault can warp your awareness and memory, as well as reducing the possible harm to both actors and audience that comes with performing or witnessing realistic looking moments of harassment.
Choreographer Hannah Schlosenberg ‘26 did an excellent job capturing the seriousness of the moment while still fostering a more abstract version of the events that occurred.

After this, Layla made a final attempt to get Monica to understand the gravity of Joe’s actions,
which Monica once again shut down, explaining how she could not trust Layla anymore as Joe claimed
that she made a pass at him before he and Monica started dating. This dismissal caused the cracks that had been forming between the two girls to finally split, truly breaking apart the friendship. In a serious move, Layla requested to have her seat moved away from Monica’s in class for the first time since they had known each other. While this moment stood out to me for a number of reasons, I was particularly struck by the sadness I felt for both of the girls, not just Layla; though it was of course not okay that Monica was enabling the abuse Layla was facing, it is also true that she was clearly being manipulated by Joe and feeling confused and hurt as to why her friend would suddenly turn on her.

As serious as it was for Layla to switch seats, it did lead to a moment of optimism breaking
through the storm clouds circling Layla. It just so happened that when Layla requested for a seat change, she got moved next to Reece, allowing the two to grow closer. Emboldened by Reece’s encouragement, Layla and her mother finally gathered the courage to confront the school, demanding an investigation into the bullying and harassment being done by Joe and his friends. Unfortunately, just as quick as this hopeful moment arrived, it dissipated, as the school could find no concrete evidence of anything besides “a bit of fun, [and] a bit of banter” from the boys in Layla’s class. The investigation only made the target on Layla’s back bigger, causing a cascade of new episodes of abuse from Joe; from forcing Layla down to her knees and taking “lewd pictures,” to groping her chest in class when the teacher’s back was turned, the harassment directed at her was becoming more physical, more violent, and more constant than it had ever been before. Even Reece, who had stood up for Layla and stayed by her side up to this point, felt he needed to distance himself from her, as he had started to face bullying himself because of his association with her.

Seeing how distraught Layla has become due to the actions of Joe, Layla’s mother suggests they
should move, an idea Layla was initially resistant towards, but she came around to it after a particularly
upsetting moment with Joe during the school day. Later that day, she called her father, and the two
discussed what had been happening and the newly decided-on move. This conversation was clearly soothing to Layla, reinforcing her own personal strength and confirming that moving was the right
decision. She returned to school the next day, still feeling a bit fragile, but truly knowing that she can get through the rest of the school year, even if it means doing so alone.

As she walked home from school that day, she put in her headphones and smiled, unaware that she was once again being watched, followed, and cornered. Just as she began passing through a park, Joe and some of his friends started physically blocking her path, grouping around her and stripping her clothes off in public. This was one of the few moments in the show where the harassment was not fully stylized, as the elaborate number detailing the way that Layla was cornered ended with her skirt actually getting torn off on stage. By having that moment be literal, the audience really feels how much of a turning point it is; after all of Layla’s more abstract memories of abuse, seeing this action portrayed so literally cements how serious this was, as it is common that the most traumatic memories end up being the ones you remember the clearest. Reece then showed up and caused the boys to scatter; he tried to check in on Layla, giving her back her skirt and asking if she was okay, but all she could do was run. This was truly her final breaking point, the moment her last shred of hope was shattered and crushed beneath the feet of entitled, misogynistic boys.

Upon finally arriving home, Layla began to spiral, ignoring calls from Reece and Monica and
isolating herself from her mother over the following days. Feeling trapped with no way out, she walked into her bathroom to retrieve a medicine box, planning to commit suicide. As Layla made this decision, the light changed into a deep, cool blue, a mood which felt truly removed from the warmth at the beginning of the piece; her whole world was collapsing, creating a foreign coolness in the space that
she once filled with such joy. She walked back to her room, ready to commit to her decision, until she
accidentally stepped on a toy dinosaur left out by her little brother. This small toy was enough to remind
Layla of the love of her family, pulling her out of the haze she had fallen into. Slowly, she reintegrated
herself with her family, though still staying home from school, and even reconnected with Reece; he had
been visiting her house every day to ask Layla’s mother about how she has been doing, until eventually
Layla had felt ready to see him again. As she exchanged awkward conversation with Reece, he got a call from Monica, who had been locked in a shed by Joe because he thought she was being flirty with one of his friends. The two went and saved her, then the three of them all had a long talk about Joe and how truly dangerous he is.

Over the next few weeks, Layla continued to stay home, slowly reconnecting with Reece and
Monica, though more so with Reece. She decided that her final goodbye to her school—including all of
the good and bad memories it held—was to perform at the end of term talent show. As she explained all
of this, the other character appeared on stage, slowly packing up Layla’s room until it was just an empty
space with blank walls, clean shelves, and a bare bed. This deconstruction of the space almost felt like a return to reality, as if the audience was leaving this domain that was Layla’s internal mind. It felt as if
Layla told us this vulnerable story in a sort of projection of her internal reality, the place she felt the most comfortable and herself, which just so happened to be her room.

The show ended with Layla presenting a list of rules she has written to prevent people from going
through the experiences she had to face ever again. Even though Layla went through such a traumatic
experience, she still managed to face her school—the teachers who ignored her struggle, her bullies and assaulters, the person who once was her best friend—and speak as her truthful, brave self. While this show explored dark themes, it still ended on a note of hope, acting as a loving hand reaching out to
support anyone who has ever been made to feel like Layla did.

Every element of this show was executed with care; Renkert’s vision shined through beautifully thanks to the work of the designers and actors she brought onto the project. This show was an acting feat, regardless of which role or track you focus on. Layla narrated practically the whole hour-long show, and Sandler did an incredible job at making such long periods of narration and storytelling not only feel engaging, but casual and genuine, as if she really was just a friend telling you a story. On the other hand, Froelich and Mann both played multiple characters, many of whom had back to back scenes, and both actors handled the transitions flawlessly; I was particularly drawn into the subtle yet impactful
changes in physicality both actors used to help distinguish their two characters. Every member of the cast and crew truly worked together beautifully to create a powerful piece of art, one that will stay with those who watched it for a long time.

Photos by Logan Waugh

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Isadora Zucker ’25 is a staff writer for the Skidmore Theater Living Newsletter