'Windfall' Review: Tarell Alvin McCraney asks what justice costs

The police shoot your child during a peaceful protest. The city offers you a life-changing financial settlement in exchange for closing the case. Do you take it? Windfall, premiering at Chicago’s Steppenwolf Theatre Company, explores the question with a deft script that blends magical realism with harsh reality and a next-level cast, though its final moments still feel like a work in progress.

Written by Academy Award winner Tarell Alvin McCraney (Moonlight), Windfall follows Chicago dad Mano (Michael Potts) as he processes the loss of two children. His adopted son, Marcus (Glenn Davis), died several years ago, yet his spirit lives on as Mano’s sole companion. More recently, Mano’s gender nonconforming child Eli (Esco Jouléy, Dying for Sex) left home to camp outside a detention center and never returned.

The city and state push for Mano to take a settlement—sending three separate visitors (all portrayed by Alana Arenas)—but Mano persists in grief and hope. Eli’s protests inspired a wave of activism. Most significantly, though they are officially declared dead, Eli’s body is missing.

Where ‘Windfall’ finds its footing

Director Awoye Timpo infuses McCraney’s lyrical dialogue with dynamic choices, including live guitar and percussion, energetic staging that leans toward choreography, and an ever-moving story. Andrew Boyce’s scenic design reflects the peaceful protest motif, with signs and banners quoting Malcolm X and the United Farm Workers, among others.

Windfall’s primary strength, however, is an ensemble at the top of its game. Playing multiple roles in an homage to A Christmas Carol’s three spirits, Arenas is a much-needed comic relief, especially as a flamboyant house appraiser, spitting brutal truths while tottering on high heels. As Eli, Jouléy is so earnest and vulnerable that it hurts.

Alana Arenas and Michael Potts in "Windfall." — Alana Arenas and Michael Potts in “Windfall.” Photo by Michael Brosilow.

The play’s only disappointment is its ending, which attempts to resolve whether Mano takes the money through an extended audience-participation segment that prioritizes style over substance. Mano’s decision feels abrupt after two hours wrestling alongside him. Rushed conclusion aside, Windfall captivates in its tackling of the losses that devastate and the morality of accepting cash tainted with innocent blood.