"Soft Target"
Detroit Public Theatre
Detroit, Mich.
May 2, 2025
We live in a country where school shootings have become commonplace. Among the increasing numbers of the dead and wounded mentioned in the headlines is a quiet and ever-growing third number – those whose trauma is felt on the inside but not often explored: Children and educators who witnessed the event and the rippling effect it has on their parents, the first responders and the larger community.
That is the focus of Emily Kaczmarek’s “Soft Target,” which made its world premiere last week at Detroit Public Theatre, directed by Jaki Bradley. The story focuses mainly on the experience of a 9-year-old girl as she processes the complex feelings that come with trauma through the help of her toys.
The play stars Oxford Middle School student Cora Steiger as Amanda, a casting choice made all the more significant because the school district suffered a mass shooting 2021 where four teenagers lost their lives.
Surrounding Amanda are her favorite toys and objects, performed by adults. David Johnson III is stuffed penguin Jonah, Emma Kikue is American Girl Doll Molly, Ashley Wickett is Amanda’s trusted diary, and Alexander Pobutsky is Ugly/Vincent, a newcomer, “not a toy” emotional support bunny, weighted with sand to offer comfort to struggling kids. Rounding out the cast are Sarah Clare Corporandy as Amanda’s mother and Nya Williams as neighborhood friend Natalie.
The play is set in Amanda’s childhood bedroom – a pink, colorful space with a lighted canopy bed, a bean bag chair and a delightful selection of kids’ books that offer a welcomed nostalgia for audience members (hello Babysitters Club!). It’s cleverly designed with a hidden trap door and wardrobes that allow the characters to pop in and out, sometimes at surprising times. It creates a cheerful contrast to the play’s dire subject matter, a reminder of the joy and innocence of childhood, now lost.
At the start of the play, Amanda’s ailment is unknown (at least for those who went into the show blind), and the toys are worried. Their kid is sleeping a lot and acting strangely; she hasn’t played with them for days. As the days go by, we get bits and pieces of the incident – and the ongoing trauma – from Amanda’s mother, while learning about Amanda’s life before the incident.
The play is not all gloom and doom. In fact, it can be quite funny, especially the sassy quips exchanged among the toys/objects, which are cute, each embracing the mannerisms of his or her respective characters. Johnson shuffles around the room with his short penguin legs, sweet and innocent and overwhelmed with the worry that comes from being Amanda’s best friend since birth. Pobutsky is cool and laid back – clearly far superior to the “actual” toys – which is made funnier with the headband ears on his head and the bounce in his step. Wickett the diary – the only one privy to Amanda’s deepest thoughts – takes on a big sister role, donned in a Punky Brewster-esque ensemble covered in doodles and markings, ready with sheets of paper and pens in her pockets.
Kikue, in particular, soars as Molly, the most clearly familiar object in the room, and the only one with a pre-established back story – another welcomed point of nostalgia. With closed fingers and limited joint movement, Kikue nails the plucky character, whose spirit is tested – liked Amanda’s – when the child’s trauma is passed on to her. It’s no coincidence Kaczmarek selected a toy character who lived through World War II, and the comparison between the two girls’ experience is not lost.
At only 12 years old, Cora excels as Amanda, portraying complex feelings no child should ever have to experience. As she wakes up in the middle of the night screaming, shakes in terror at loud noises or acts out in fits of rage, you feel her pain, her confusion and sense of helplessness.
In the play’s most disturbing scene, what seems like a healing child turns dark as she relives the fateful incident through her toys, who then share in her trauma and loss of innocence. These scenes are interspliced with perky glimpses of Amanda’s former self, a normal child with crushes, school activities and a best friend with whom she does everything. Cora glides through these extremes seamlessly, though at times is a little difficult to understand.
Corporandy is strong as Amanda’s mother. You see her struggle navigating these unchartered waters, doing her best to support her kid while managing her own trauma after having almost lost her child and witnessing the pain of those who weren’t as fortunate.
Kaczmarek, a former teacher, is clever in her use of toys to portray a child processing trauma. She said she envisioned a situation where a child – otherwise helpless in this gun-loving country – would have control over her surroundings. The toys, while offering a needed comic relief, represent Amanda’s pre-trauma self, who themselves lose their joy and innocence as Amanda processes the experience through them. Her writing brings you back to your childhood and reminds you of your narrow understanding of the world, now forcing you to imagine processing major trauma with limited coping skills. Jonah’s monologue reminiscing of his life with Amanda is moving, though a bit on the long side and unfocused.
While the play specifically deals with the aftermath of a school shooting, “Soft Target” is not an overtly political story. It is likely relatable to anyone who has suffered trauma. It can be emotionally intense, but the use of toys softens the subject matter, making it easier to consider on a deeper level. In a world where we’re expected to put on a brave face to function in society, the play may offer an even safer space to process difficult emotions when they’re able to be expressed as simple and freely as a child does. And for those who can’t relate to that level of trauma, it forces you to connect to a reality that is far too often overlooked. It makes you grateful you haven’t had to experience it yourself and hopefully never will.
