Sean Daniels’ The White Chip proves it. Sharp, candid, very funny and ultimately hopeful, Marin Theatre’s production finds comedy within a serious journey through addiction and recovery.
At the center is Steven McAlister, a successful theatre director whose life is increasingly overtaken by alcohol. Benjamin Clark gives Steven an appealing combination of participant, storyteller and straight man, guiding us through his increasingly chaotic life while Lyndsy Kail and Danny Scheie create the world around him.
And they are terrific.
Benjamin Clark, Danny Scheie and Lyndsy Kail in The White Chip. Photos: David Allen / Marin Theatre.
Kail and Scheie portray a rapid succession of people, situations and even Steven’s states of mind. A change in voice, posture, expression or movement can instantly create another character. Their miming is especially effective—and frequently hilarious.
Clark anchors it all. His relatively straight delivery gives Kail and Scheie room for the comic fireworks while keeping Steven’s increasingly serious journey grounded.
The laughs are part of the truth.
What particularly impressed me was the stagecraft.
Much of The White Chip requires split-second coordination among actors, sound and lighting. A gesture, sound cue and lighting change have to hit at precisely the right moment. They do. Every time.
At times the production feels almost choreographed, with actors, sound and light working as a single unit. Steven’s memories, confusion and changing states of mind appear around him, then disappear just as quickly.
Director Lance Gardner keeps everything moving while preserving the human story underneath the theatrical invention. His connection to the material is personal—Gardner will celebrate 20 years of sobriety in 2027—and that understanding comes through without overwhelming Daniels’ comedy.
Daniels’ semi-autobiographical story captures one of addiction’s crueler tricks: Steven is smart, talented and remarkably good at explaining his drinking to himself. One drink makes sense. The next can be explained. Eventually the explanations become part of the problem.
Then comes the white chip. In Alcoholics Anonymous, it can mark 24 hours of sobriety—or simply the desire to stop drinking. For Daniels, that small chip becomes a powerful symbol of the possibility of change.
Sometimes changing your life starts with getting through today.
Clark gives us the man trying to do exactly that. Kail and Scheie brilliantly create the world around him. Gardner and his production team make that world appear and disappear with remarkable precision.
Excellent performances and outstanding stagecraft make The White Chip terrific theater.
Info & Tickets
The White Chip
Marin Theatre
397 Miller Avenue, Mill Valley, CA
Through September 20, 2026
Tickets: MarinTheatre.org
Box Office: 415-388-5208
