“Caroline” is Caroline, who is Maddie?

Some years ago, I watched Greta Gerwig’s 2017 breakout hit Lady Bird with my mother. The film follows an obstinate teenage girl and her complicated relationship with her mother. As the film ended, my mom turned to me and quipped, “We’re doing pretty good, right?” If my mom lived nearby and if she had seen Caroline with me, I would have thrown that quip right back at her.

MCC Theater, a staple of New York City’s off-Broadway scene, has kicked off its 2025-26 season with the world premiere of Preston Max Allen’s play Caroline. Directed by Tony Award-winner David Cromer, Caroline follows Maddie (Chloë Grace Moretz), a young mother with a history of substance abuse, and her 10-year-old trans daughter, Caroline (River Lipe-Smith). After the two of them escape an abusive situation, Maddie makes the difficult choice to approach her estranged mother, Rhea (Amy Landecker), for help.

Maddie is eight years sober and has a lot to be proud of. She has maintained a steady job and created a stable life for herself and Caroline. She’s raised Caroline into a mature and self-aware kid, and she stops at nothing to ensure Caroline feels safe in her identity.

But before those promising eight years came the damaging ones before; years of drug and alcohol addiction, failed rehab stays, and theft have permanently marred her relationship with her parents, and Rhea has all but let her go. What begins as a play about Maddie, the mother who’s worked tirelessly to keep her trans child safe in an increasingly unsafe world, becomes a play about Maddie, the daughter who has far more work to do before her past is reconciled.

The play is a 90-minute, three-person staging that takes place in MCC’s 86-seat black box theater. Allen, a versatile playwright known largely for his cult hit musical We Are the Tigers, and himself a trans man, approaches his topics head-on without coming across as saccharine or superficial. Every beat is tightly constructed, and every character choice has a reason for existing, even when they are particularly painful. I was struck by a monologue from Maddie to Rhea about Caroline’s identity; there’s a bluntness to it that grounds you in reality, in a way that few monologues can successfully achieve without feeling like a lecture.

But the beauty of Allen’s play is that it’s not actually about Caroline’s identity at all. It serves as an inciting motivator in Maddie’s journey. The play doesn’t question who Caroline is, so why should we? Caroline is Caroline. The more important question is, who is Maddie?

The best advantage of such a small space is getting to watch the actors work up close. Leading player Chloë Grace Moretz is a true knockout — a mostly unsurprising statement given her impressive Hollywood resume. What is surprising is that this is only her second stage appearance, after a debut at NYC’s Public Theater in 2014; the second of many more, I hope.

Moretz is adept at portraying barely kept composure in the face of exhaustion, and she unleashes just the right amount without tipping over into histrionics. She has an incredible knack for pacing and subtext, which feel even more intimate in the confines of the black box.

Moretz’s two co-stars perfectly foil her on either side. Newcomer River Lipe-Smith is a promising young actor to watch. They infuse Caroline with a precociousness that doesn’t sacrifice any innocence. They have a good knack for the expected humor of a 10-year-old without becoming schticky. Lipe-Smith has a strong understanding of Caroline’s raison d’être: Caroline is Caroline. Completing the trifecta is Amy Landecker, another silver screen veteran.

Landecker personifies the idiom “keep at an arm’s length.” There’s a tightly controlled softness within her bluntness. Her Rhea has her values kept very close to her chest. In a quietly brutal moment, Maddie asks Rhea, “are you okay with this being how I am?” Landecker flashes through all the stages of grief without needing to say much at all. When she sets up some intense boundaries, you are equal parts disappointed and sympathetic to her decisions. Landecker and Lipe-Smith surround Moretz with ample fuel to her fire, and create characters that are powerful reflections of the best and worst parts of Maddie.

Allen cleverly uses a specifically scripted musical soundtrack to move the characters along. Maddie’s soundtrack is one of a grunge-punk vibe, but also shifts into a slightly softer grunge with Demi Lovato (“’cause you have a lot of stuff in common?” Caroline quips to Maddie). Caroline’s playlist brings in the lighthearted tween bops of Jojo Siwa and the like. There’s a dance to their musical tastes: a reflection of the past and a push forward through the present. The music is who they were then and who they are now, for better and for worse.

Like any good play, the ending is a tough pill to swallow. I spent the better part of the time after the play mulling it over. Without giving too much away, the play ends with Rhea giving Maddie a brutal ultimatum, and after an explosive conversation (again, deftly acted by Moretz and Landecker), Maddie makes her choice, which is encouraged by Caroline.

I kept asking myself, “Would I have made the same choice?” I’m about the same age as Maddie — and by extension, Moretz — and while our experiences are opposites (I’m not yet a parent, and my relationship with my mother is very positive), I could very easily see myself in Maddie’s circumstances. In a manner similar to Lady Bird, I would have loved to have watched this with my mother. Would she empathize with Rhea’s ultimatum? Would she be more likely to soften the boundaries if it was me in Maddie’s situation? Moreover, what would I expect my own mother to do? If I made the choice that Maddie and Caroline make, would it be a hurtful choice, or a healing one? Could it be both? Ultimately, I don’t think I would have made Maddie’s choice in the end. Whether or not that is a positive or negative thing has yet to be decided.

Caroline just is. It thrives in its normalcy. It’s tight, sharp, and asks hard questions. It doesn’t shy away from its answers, even if they’re answers that not everybody wants to hear. And even if I don’t think Maddie’s answer would be my own, it doesn’t make it any less valid. It just is. Caroline is Caroline.

Caroline is presented at MCC Theater, 511 W 52nd St., in New York City, through Nov. 2. You can learn more or purchase tickets at mcctheater.org/tix/caroline/