This show dives into a world after a pandemic wipes out most of humanity. A mix of actors and musicians try to survive and make sense of chaos. It flips between past and present, revealing struggles and dreams. Themes of hope and resilience shine through. It’s a touching look at being human when everything falls apart.

Meet the characters from Station Eleven

Dieter

Oh Dieter, the one who makes you laugh in the middle of a blackout — an actor through and through, always rehearsing even when there’s no audience. He’s got this small, nervous energy, a little hammy, loves a big gesture but then will quietly fold into the background and read the stage directions like gospel. Sweet, theatrical, the kind of person who keeps a stash of costume jewelry and will argue passionately about the correct tempo for a monologue (then forget the line five minutes later). Honestly, he’s loyal to the troupe and to his art, but also weirdly practical — I swear he once fixed a generator with a shoelace and a paperclip, or maybe I’m making that up.

Kirsten

Kirsten is this tough, pocket-sized force of nature — former child actor who carries Shakespeare like a weapon and a comic book like a talisman. She’s fierce and haunted and funny in a dry way, obsessed with the Station Eleven comic and with preserving tiny, useless relics from before, which she treats like holy artifacts. Sometimes she’s stone-cold and other times she cries over an old trading card, so yes, emotionally complicated and also kind of stubbornly tender. She’s part warrior, part archivist, and forever young in that strange surviving-teenager way, even if she swears she’s mostly over teenage drama (lies, probably).

Jeevan

Jeevan is that nervous, big-hearted former paparazzo-turned-would-be-medic who tries so hard to be useful it’s almost adorable. He’s practical and anxious and has this protective streak — will cook improvised soup for strangers and also hoard batteries like a squirrel, which is both sweet and slightly obsessive. He’s the person who learns to listen instead of just intervening, quietly changing from panic-mode to caregiver-mode, which is oddly inspiring. Also, he can be ridiculously sentimental about small rituals (tea at 8 p.m. sharp!) and then totally forget where he put his keys five seconds later.

Clark

Clark is the schemer-with-a-soft-center, the ex-corporate guy who ends up curating a Museum of Civilization in an airport because of course he would make a museum out of ruin — of course. He loves lists, archives, and imposing order on chaos; his great strength is turning nostalgia into purpose, sometimes in slightly exhausting ways. You get the sense he’s always cataloguing people as much as objects, with this dry humor and a surprising tenderness when he remembers names. He can be infuriatingly organized and sentimental at once — the man will make a spreadsheet for grief and then weep over a paperclip.

Frank Chaudhary

Frank is the steady, low-key counterpoint to his brother’s nervous energy — practical, private, quietly resourceful, the kind of person who fixes things because it calms him. He’s less showy, more the “hands-in-your-pocket” type, with a dry wit and a weird fondness for bad radio shows (don’t ask, he’ll defend them). He seems like someone who keeps a notebook and a tool kit in the same backpack and probably knows how to skin a fish and brew excellent coffee in a storm. Also, he’s softer than he lets on — he’ll deny it and then make you soup when you’re crying.

Alexandra

Alexandra is the artsy, slightly mysterious one — you know that quietly intense friend who organizes everyone’s costumes and also has opinions about wall colors at 3 a.m. She’s creative and precise, loves patterns and maps and will quietly sketch out a play’s blocking while everyone else is arguing, then smile like she solved the world. She’s equal parts pragmatic and dreamy: hates chaos but will start a ridiculous late-night philosophical conversation and not apologize for it. Honestly, she’s the person you want backstage, someone who remembers the small details and also keeps a ridiculous collection of mismatched buttons for reasons she’ll give a very long answer about.