Inside the main doors of Scene Dock Theatre, the black box setting transported audiences to the Pacific Coast of Vancouver Island. As audience members took their seats, seagull chirps emitted from the stage speakers while intangible waves crashed against the nautical set pieces. 

From April 17-20, Brand New Theatre at USC presented its original play, “Sea Drift,” written by Casey Fleming and directed by Abitha Nunis. The story follows the protagonist, The Fisherman (Andrew Skinner), and his crew as they fight to survive aboard a powerboat months into a pandemic that contaminates the land with the undead.

“Sea Drift” is a story best defined by its myriad of generational perspectives. The Fisherman is tasked with ensuring the safety of his fearful 7-year-old daughter, a dementia-stricken old woman and two disparate young adults whose dreams were put on pause by a worldwide crisis.

The group’s initial lack of compatibility sets a devastating tone for their fate. A feeling of unease wafted through the space when the fractious College Boy (Sabria Joaquin) and ex-military Runaway Girl (Rokya Diaby) bicker while the old woman further succumbs to her age.

Even if the characters are standard for the genre, the actors’ chemistry is undeniable. As Runaway Girl and College Boy warm to each other, they illuminate their dialogue with a charm one could mistake for a “When Harry Met Sally…” (1989) deleted scene. The Fisherman’s Daughter (Alison Mitchell) lives in her character as she plays with her imaginary friend blue fire (Nations).

The crew meets their climax on a harrowing journey back to shore when their resources deplete, supplies falter and their boat’s engine fails. Ensuing chaos brings the combative crew members together to help The Fisherman as he desperately tries to protect his daughter.

Recently, audiences have been drawn to the father-daughter apocalypse trope in popular media. Season 2 of “The Last of Us” just premiered on HBO to 5.3 million viewers, one of the most-watched HBO premieres in over a decade. Watching “Sea Drift,” it is natural to make the comparison, as The Fisherman fights for his daughter’s future in an unrecognizably ruined world. 

The idea of viewing yet another apocalyptic story feels like white noise right now. During intermission, audience members could check their social media to see that President Donald Trump had opened over half of U.S. national forests to the logging industry, and anyone who had gone to bed early on the 20th woke up to news that Pope Francis had died overnight. 

Couple this with prestige television shows like “Black Mirror” and “Severance” broadcasting to millions of viewers, and the average audience member already has enough on their mind before they sit down.

No one pondering an ailing Earth needs a picture painted for them, but they sure could use some peace of mind. That’s where “Sea Drift” steps up. Every character risks their skin for the group’s survival, no matter their station, each dumping any selfish tendencies holding them back to save The Fisherman’s daughter.

After the infected pick off most of the crew members, the only two survivors find sanctuary in Pine Island Lighthouse. The Fisherman’s dream of protecting his daughter is realized when she gets a second chance at childhood, being raised by College Boy.

The trauma subsides, and the new generation grows up in an idyllic environment, safe from outside threats and made special with a hand-carved driftwood dollhouse, newly knitted sweaters and a fresh set of purple-painted nails.

“Sea Drift” exudes an optimism reminiscent of that found in a John Steinbeck novel. It doesn’t gift anyone a perfect ending. Good people die, innocence is shattered and existential threats don’t subside. Still, there’s always a lighthouse to look for, and the compassion of others goes a long way to make life worth living.

Disclaimer: Alison Mitchell formerly served as a podcast staffer at the Daily Trojan in Spring 2024. Mitchell is no longer affiliated with this paper.