When the Stage Hits Home: How Community Theatre Can Take On Local Stories

(Photo: Legacy Theatre - Branford, CT

by Chris Peterson, OnStage Blog Founder

Here’s a radical idea: what if community theatre actually reflected the community?

I know, I know—some of you are shocked at the thought of veering away from the musical revue or the 47th production of The Sound of Music. But hear me out.

There’s something incredibly powerful that happens when theatre steps beyond escapism and leans into something real—something rooted in the streets we drive down, the schools our kids attend, and the headlines that hit a little too close to home. I’m talking about the productions that dare to take on local issues, local voices, and local wounds. The kind of shows that don’t just entertain—but challenge, provoke, and maybe even change something.

That’s the kind of community theatre I want to see more of in 2025.

And it’s not just wishful thinking. I’ve seen it happening. All over the country, local theatre groups are starting to realize they can do more than just dust off old chestnuts or chase whatever just closed on Broadway. They can be a mirror—one that reflects their town’s triumphs and troubles, sometimes in the same breath.

I recently heard about a small theatre that staged an original play about the opioid crisis, written by a local playwright whose own family had been affected. Another company put on a devised piece that tackled gentrification—created in collaboration with residents of the very neighborhood being displaced. And let’s not forget the groups creating work around school shootings, LGBTQ+ inclusion, police reform, or mental health access.

Are these easy shows to produce? Not even close. They take guts, trust, and a willingness to sit in discomfort. But man, do they matter.

Too often, community theatre hides behind the idea that it’s “just for fun” or “just for family entertainment.” And sure—there’s absolutely a place for joy and laughter and tap-dancing waiters. I love that stuff. But if we only program fluff, we’re missing an opportunity. Because no one knows a town better than the artists who live in it. And no one can hold up a mirror to it more powerfully than a group of neighbors standing under lights on a makeshift stage.

Let’s also talk about accessibility. When you stage work that speaks directly to the people around you—about issues they’re living through—you open the doors to audiences who might never have seen a play before. You make theatre feel less like an elite club and more like a town square. And you start conversations that spill out into parking lots, coffee shops, and city council meetings. That’s impact.

Of course, this kind of work doesn’t happen by accident. It takes intention. It takes courage from artistic directors, boards, and volunteers who are willing to do the hard thing instead of the easy one. It takes playwrights willing to tell the truth, actors willing to sit in vulnerability, and audiences willing to come along for the ride—even if it gets uncomfortable.

And yes, you’ll ruffle feathers. Yes, someone will write a Facebook post about how they “just wanted to see something lighthearted” and not “a show about problems.” But I would argue: if we’re not willing to ruffle a few feathers, what are we even doing?

Community theatre doesn’t have to mean “safe.” It can mean “real.” It can mean “urgent.” It can mean “we’re finally talking about this.”

So to the artistic directors out there planning their 2025–2026 seasons: what’s your town going through? What aren’t people talking about enough? Who’s never had their story told on your stage?

Maybe it’s time to do the show no one’s done yet. Maybe it’s time to write your own. Maybe it’s time to listen to someone else’s.

Because when the stage hits home, something extraordinary happens. And trust me—that kind of theatre? People remember it. Not just for a night, but for a lifetime.

And isn’t that the whole point?