‘Blood Hammer Girl’ @ Ochre House Theater

Photos by Trent Stephenson

—Martha Heimberg

Bloody good laughs and soaring songs are going round and round on the revolving stage at Ochre House Theater, where every show is a premiere written and staged by the hyper-creative resident company.

Blood Hammer Girl, written and directed by artist-in-residence Justin Locklear, is a spooky fable set to music composed by the playwright — who also wrote the lyrics and made the videos. It’s a little bit Everyman and a little bit Addams Family, and altogether a fascinating romp through the human dilemma of finding meaning in an awesome world where we have to deal with family traditions, star-crossed love, dreams of marriage, hobbling arthritis — and Death with a capital D in a black cloak.

Dammit.

People die. Demented old folks and newborns alike return to dust. And mortality is one heavy load for any show to bear. What to do? Locklear’s characters face up to it like human beings. They make music and dance and weep and laugh. How else could we muddle through? (Personal note: I’m with the comics—put me in the laughers’ camp when things get scary.)

Seated at stage right are the musicians, lavishly dressed (along with the actors) in medieval-style costumes designed by Ryan Matthieu Smith. They step into the play carrying a cello or guitar and joining the pilgrims, all singing a song of harvest time as they journey to the shrine of the winds. One pilgrim carries a delightful rod puppet shedding green chiffon tears, because it wouldn’t be Ochre House without a puppet or three. Artistic director Matthew Posey designed the set, and artist Izk Davis painted bucolic scenes on the large canvases and walls surrounding the stage.

Aman, played by a commanding and charismatic Michael Stimac, is the robed priest, rabbi, poet, and parent keeping the chime box tingling at the edge of the cliff. His best friend is a mossy Stone (Danielle Georgiou), a craggy, human-size rock with good legs, wearing white gloves and shaking a tambourine against her body in dance scenes. Aman is definitely holy, but he’s not free to the public, either. He charges a sensible fee for his blessings.

Cameron Wisener seamlessly weaves innocence and guile into the person of our heroine Tiffany, Aman’s daughter, who starts out as a precious Little Bo Peep type, curls and all, and ends up wielding the giant blood-drenched weapon of the title. The female of the species is more deadly than the male every time.

Young Tiffany dreams of getting married and “having a dumb house and dumb children like you and Mom had.” But Aman has heard the word from the Magistrates (two meadow paintings that flip to become giant scowling faces, laughing fiendishly and shouting about the “Rules” of life and death in Nature). Hmm.

Word is that Aman’s darling daughter has been named “Hammer Girl” elect. A haunting cello melody plays as Tiffany sadly ponders her new appointed role as “death giver”—which sounds pretty grim, even considering the promise of world travel and immense power for “the one who pulls the plug.”

Onto this muddy road of life comes handsome Yanno (robust, smiling Carson Wright), our necessary hero, hauling his demented Mother (a hilariously out-to-lunch Lily Gast) on his back to the wind shrine, hoping she can be healed. Mom can’t even remember which son is carrying her — never mind what the trip is about.

Still, when Tiffany and Yanno lay eyes on each other, the music rises to pump this love-at first-sight event. Mom and Tiffany are all about them getting married, while Dad and Yanno are, like, “could we get to know each other first?”

What’s gonna happen to this ragtag crew of pilgrims as they wander through some marvelously original props (Carla Parker) and startling encounters (always with each other in disguise)? Can a man or a Tiffany help? Is that a loving muse speaking through stones and wind — or is Nature utterly indifferent? Can the playwright wrangle a happy ending out of all this gallows humor and flashing red light?

Far be it from this witness to predict their end or in-between—though for sure, the songs are charming and the energetic cast spends it all on the journey. Special kudos to the musicians/actors: Sarah Rogerson on cello, Ari Aronoff on saxophone, Gregg Prickett on electric guitar and Eric Talamantes on trumpet and acoustic guitar.

The play’s the thing, they say—and Locklear’s Blood Hammer Girl is a thing and a half, with a weird and wacky allure you’ll find hard to forget. Or explain.

WHEN: February 18-March 7, 2026
WHERE: 825 Exposition Avenue (Fair Park area), Dallas
WEB: ochrehousetheater.org