←Recommendations of Postpartum

Blevins has upped the ante on horror. Never has innocence been portrayed this frightening. There’s something about the baby… you may never look at a baby’s eyes in the same way. Don’t be fooled by the cast size. Yes, there are meaty roles for two actors but the Baby might eclipse them. Stephen King move over, there’s a new horror writer in town.

Don't have kids, y'all.

In actual seriousness, goddamn, this is a terrifying short play. Absolutely chilling. Blevins takes a baby monitor and a rooftop and drops us into a pure whirlpool of dread. And while both roles are amazing for actors to chew on, the real star and masterful craft of this play is the use of sound, expertly suggesting fear that our imaginations take and run with. Sometimes, it's scarier when you can't see it. Sometimes, it's scarier when it's in your head. Because what if it's not real? What if it's just you?

Or what if you're right?

I can imagine sitting in my room in the dark listening to this as an audio drama trying to scare myself... and man would I succeed. Jillian Blevins creates an absolute masterclass in horror storytelling. This piece has it all: slow burn, tension, twist ending. The stage directions on the last page are just to die for.

“Postpartum” is a play you can see and hear as you read it, and the feelings of dread that it conjures will stay with you long after the play ends. The kind of horror that reaches inside you and leaves you breathless.

Blevins creates palpable tension from the first beat in "Postpartum" and builds -- with a few moments when the audience can exhale -- to a shocking climax that takes the breath away.

"Postpartum" is the best kind of horror: The kind that stems from familiar experiences but takes us well beyond our imaginations allow us to go. The situation is all too familiar for many parents, and that's what makes this play, with its unseen (but not unheard) threats so terrifying. Absolutely brilliant.

Objectively speaking, a newborn literally feeds off its parents. Not just mother’s milk. Their needs become the center of life. Their wants have no consideration of yours. You belong to them more than they belong to you and their id-driven whims inform every decision.

Sometimes, that interdependence sparks joy. Through a darker lens of anxiety and division, these demands can feel like they have consequences. What if they do? What is and isn’t real is up for grabs as parents determine if their infant is simply fussy or a vengeful god. Either way, the stakes are dire.

Great horror is about what you DON'T see, and terrifying, off-stage events (downright GREEK in their epic scale) are deployed to brilliant, horrific effect in this fantastic feminist short. Somehow, this piece is even more chilling and salient in the Post-Roe era, making visible the impossibly high cost of motherhood even in the best-case scenario. The dialogue is spare and succinct, leaving the audience to do the work, filling in the gaps—it's engaging (and very scary) from page one. A sound designer would have an utter field day with this piece! A chilling experience that will stay with you!

Blevins tapped into the real fear of postpartum psychosis to take her audience on a horrifying journey. An astounding piece of short horror!

Wow, talk about intense. Jillian Blevins just creeped me the hell out with this short piece that takes a mother's bond with her child and practically stitches them together. In a brilliant move, we are never privy to what baby looks like, but something tells me, it can't be good. Husband just wants to help. Looks like he may have just become a "helping"! (And so much for my Tales From the Crypt final line!) This is deeply disturbing, oh-so compelling and would freak an audience out. Wonderful writing here.