On a crisp April evening in Toronto, theatergoers are flocking to The Theatre Centre on Queen Street West, eager to experience Riot King’s latest production: The Moors. The play, running until April 19, 2026, is the second work by playwright Jen Silverman to grace Toronto’s stages this year, following the well-received Witch at Soulpepper in February. But does The Moors live up to the high expectations set by its predecessor? According to a recent review in NEXT Magazine, the answer is complicated.
Directed by Bryn Kennedy, The Moors transports audiences to a secluded Victorian mansion perched on the windswept English moors. The setting is classic gothic fare: a new governess named Emilie, played with humor and strength by Blessing Adedijo, arrives at the manor after months of correspondence with the elusive Master Branwell. Yet, upon her arrival, Branwell is nowhere to be found. Instead, Emilie is greeted by Branwell’s sisters—Agatha (Raquel Duffy), cold and calculating, and Huldey (Lindsey Middleton), naive and hungry for attention—a maid (Erin Humphry) who is constantly switching hats, and, perhaps most unexpectedly, an existentially-inclined pet mastiff, brought to life by Jack Copland.
While the bones of a gripping gothic thriller are present, NEXT Magazine notes that The Moors doesn’t quite deliver the same punch as Witch. The review observes, "The Moors, set in a secluded Victorian mansion on the moors of England, begins with anticipation of the arrival of a new governess named Emilie (Blessing Adedijo) who has been exchanging letter correspondence with the head of the house, Master Branwell, for months. Only, when she arrives, the man of the manor is nowhere to be found. Left in the mansion are only Branwell’s sisters Agatha (Raquel Duffy) and Huldey (Lindey Middleton), the maid (Erin Humphry) and their surprisingly existential pet mastiff (Jack Copland)."
The play’s structure, with its sibling rivalries and themes of power and fame, echoes Silverman’s earlier work. In fact, the review suggests that The Moors—written two years before Witch—feels like a "first draft" of what would eventually become a more polished and impactful piece. "Knowing that Silverman wrote The Moors two years prior to Witch, it’s not difficult to interpret the former as a sort of ‘first draft’ of what would eventually get polished into the latter," the review states. For those who have already seen Witch, The Moors may come across as familiar territory, with "little that feels new."
Despite these criticisms, the production is far from a lost cause. The cast’s performances shine, infusing the play with energy and wit. Lindsey Middleton’s portrayal of Huldey is highlighted for its sharp comedic timing and expressive control, while Adedijo’s Emilie brings a bright, earnest presence to the stage. Erin Humphry’s maid, though underdeveloped in the script, charms with deadpan humor, and Copland’s mastiff oscillates between curiosity and animalistic instinct, providing some of the evening’s most thoughtful moments.
The design elements further elevate the experience. Franco Pang’s lighting is described as "minimal until it comes in full force after a violent climax as the background during a maniacal metal ‘ballad,’ sung by Middleton." The set, designed by Kennedy, cleverly transforms between parlour, bedroom, and portrait gallery without moving a single piece—an ongoing gag that keeps the audience engaged. Costume designer Madeline Ius injects levity with anachronistic touches, such as a bright pink diary and a plastic raincoat, nudging the production away from strict period drama and into the realm of playful parody.
Underneath the murder, lies, and sexual tension, The Moors is, according to NEXT Magazine, "a broader search of belonging, both among the zany humans and the disarmingly articulate animals." But unlike Witch, which ends with a glimmer of hope, The Moors leaves its characters—and its audience—adrift. The review laments, "While Witch ends with a sense of hope, The Moors does not; and with little to back up each character’s actions, everything is left feeling flat. And I am left wondering why."
Yet, it’s the comedic elements and the commitment of the cast and crew that rescue the play from mediocrity. "The comedic elements of this production save it from being a run-of-the-mill Hallmark thriller, although I mourn what The Moors could have been if Kennedy’s direction dug a little deeper into the tension it tried to build up," the review concludes. The audience, it seems, is left both entertained and contemplative, pondering the play’s missed opportunities as much as its moments of brilliance.
Meanwhile, the literary world beyond the stage is buzzing with its own celebrations and recommendations. On the same day as NEXT Magazine’s review, Book Riot published its daily round-up, highlighting the enduring popularity of prolific authors like Danielle Steel, who has sold over one billion copies worldwide. The article also marked the upcoming birthday of Beverly Cleary, whose beloved character Ramona Quimby taught generations of young readers that being imaginative and taking up space is not just acceptable, but admirable. "Normal didn’t mean unimportant," the piece reflects, underscoring Cleary’s impact on literature for working-class families.
For those seeking deeper literary conversations, Book Riot recommends its own podcast, Zero to Well-Read, promising in-depth discussions on books, TV, and film—"a good hour+ long chat about books, TV, and/or film that really digs deep: the premise, the reception, the lore, the hot takes." And in a nod to the evolving world of comics, the article challenges the skepticism surrounding celebrity-written comics, noting that sometimes, "people are just really talented and hardworking at multiple things."
In addition, Book Riot highlights a recent New York Times roundup by Elizabeth Arnott, which recommends books about housewives seeking revenge—a theme as old as literature itself. Among the picks is The Bandit Queens by Parini Shroff, a favorite among Book Riot readers for its blend of dark humor and social commentary.
It’s clear that, whether on stage or on the page, stories about belonging, imagination, and the search for meaning continue to resonate. As Toronto’s theater season unfolds and literary circles buzz with recommendations, audiences are reminded that while not every production or book will be a masterpiece, each has the potential to spark conversation, laughter, and a deeper appreciation for the art of storytelling.