Puffs, Or: Seven Increasingly Eventful Years at a Certain School of Magic and Magic is an extremely silly play with a somewhat serious message. It’s so silly, in fact, that the director, Ruth Sturm, asks the audience in her program note to take a minute to get in the right frame of mind. (That was something of a tall order on a dark and deserted Capitol Hill dotted with a few uniformed and armed National Guard troops two nights before the “No Kings” protests. And even Sturm mentioned a certain famous author using fame to advocate against trans rights — and responded by ignoring gender in casting, which was commendable. But I digress. My point is that it might be harder for some people to capture the mood now than it might have been in 2015 when Puffs premiered.)
Both the silliness and the message come from the original idea of the show, by New York playwright Matt Cox: What must it have been like to be at that “certain school” as a “regular” student — especially one from the House that was mostly ignored — merely trying to get a magical education while a certain other student kept attracting disasters and then heroically saving the school from them? Since the play revels in mixing its pop-culture references, it would not be out of line to say that it must be like being a “red shirt” in Star Trek — a minor character introduced only to get killed off. Or, even more to the point, what might it have been like to be a student who has read and watched all those teen fantasy franchises about adolescents finding they’re special! and being whisked off to a magical land where they are destined to be heroes! … only to find you’re not special at all? That is the sobering question underlying the parody party that is Puffs.
This production plays in St. Mark’s Episcopal Church, an impressive Gothic revival edifice, making it a wonderful setting for the world of the show, even without much set. Unfortunately, the extremely echoey acoustics of the church make it difficult to hear many of the lines, even when the actors project, and when they drop their voices for punchlines, as often happens, the words are lost. It is somewhat easier to hear in the front row, as opposed to higher up in the third-row risers.
Because of the impressive venue, there is little set, other than a paper sign on some drapes and pipes saying “School of Magic and Magic” and a couple of beanbags on the floor. The actors run on and off from behind the drapes or down the short aisles between the seating. This makes it difficult to get any sense of place, other than from hearing the actors announce where they are (subject to the acoustic problems mentioned). The lighting is equally minimal. The costumes, by Amelia Schuster, Fiona Meagher, and Rose Lane, are multitudinous and need to be changed quickly, lending to the slapdash humor of the production. The costumers seem to have taken advantage of some robes belonging to the church for the many professors who show up and disappear quickly (usually saying disdainfully, “Oh … Puffs.”). The many props wrangled by Tongjia (Tonya) Fu are effective.
The director and actors bring a great deal of enthusiasm to the performance. They obviously are very familiar with the source material, as they — and the audience — must be to appreciate the parody. However, the challenge with a show that is originally based on improv (especially one with as many “you can do what you want here!” directions in the script as Puffs) is that it requires more than just enthusiasm; it requires extra touches of originality. One good one here is when the Snake from the Second Book shows up as a remote-controlled car bearing an inflatable snake that scoots across the stage. Unfortunately, this production consists mostly of the actors just saying the lines — enthusiastically, yes, or on occasion amusingly bored, as when they find themselves sitting and watching the surface of the lake for an hour during the “Three-wizard Tournament” — but not much more. Even though some characters are American and others are British, there seems to be little consistency in accents, but this may be another problem with acoustics. There are very few attempts to show magic happening, other than light-up wands and a repeated gag about the Narrator throwing books to characters trying to “summon” them. Since the lines go by so fast and are so difficult to hear, it can be somewhat difficult to fully appreciate the humor. Still, the audience there the night I saw it thoroughly enjoyed themselves.
The actors distinguish themselves in various ways. Alicia Yass makes many transitions playing numerous professors, and is particularly effective as the (turns-out-to-be-not-so) evil Xavia Jones, proving that even would-be villains sometimes have to cope with being nothing special. Betsy Scarisbrick makes a good “a certain Potions professor” and numerous others. Hart Wood is charmingly goofy as the amorous adolescent Sally Perks and humorously heartrending as the tragic house-elf, Bippy, who shows up out of the blue only for his death scene. Lilly McGee is delightfully loopy as the perpetually confused Leanne, and touching as the supremely accepting Helga, founder of the House of Puffs. Madeline Marie proves a fine and funny Harry, running on and off saving the day, preening, dancing, stealing everyone’s thunder, and spending a year being a grumpy adolescent jerk, while maintaining a credible British accent throughout. Marcus Martinez has the unfortunate job of portraying several rather unlikable characters, including J. Finch Fletchley (who refers to himself in the third person), Wayne’s redneck Uncle Dave, and Zack Smith, the head of the magical sports team, who is saddled with a lengthy and inexplicable monologue in the second act that was apparently impressively improvised 600 different times by the original actor, but now has no purpose other than to interrupt the action with a string of profanity for no reason.
Although this is the epitome of an ensemble show, there are principal characters, and they are good here. Erica Irving makes a compelling and comprehensible Narrator, especially in her increasingly horrified reactions as the “books” get longer and the time grows shorter. Maya Lameche, as Oliver Rivers, shows the heartfelt horror of a student who has never gotten an answer wrong, finding himself in a school where academics mean nothing, but fortunately realizes that friendship and love make up for it all. Brianna Rodriguez Day beautifully portrays her journey from an angsty goth who revels in being different to realizing that it’s okay to be ordinary if it means having friends. Chris D’Angelo shines as the comically charismatic and handsome Cedric, the only Puff who ever got to be a hero (and look what it got him!), and then amuses as the green-painted villain Mr. Voldy. And Aarij Mohammad touches the heart as the would-be hero Wayne, presenting the sober truth that sometimes one isn’t meant to be a hero or a lauded martyr, but that love, in the end, may be the greatest magic of all.
Puffs, Or: Seven Increasingly Eventful Years at a Certain School of Magic and Magic can be a hoot if you’re in the mood, and conveys the important truth that even if not everyone gets to be a hero, we can still save the world (or our corner of it) just by being true to our friends and our principles. And that’s a good message in any world.
Running Time: Two hours, including one 15-minute intermission.
Puffs, Or: Seven Increasingly Eventful Years at a Certain School of Magic and Magic played October 3 to 18, 2025, presented by St. Mark’s Players, performing at St. Mark’s Church, 301 A Street SE, Washington, DC.
The program is online here.
Puffs, Or: Seven Increasingly Eventful Years at a Certain School of Magic and Magic
By Matt Cox
Directed by Ruth Sturm
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