“Bad with money. Great with a spray gun.”
Such is a supremely apt tease of Nicole Travolta is Doing Alright, the critically-acclaimed solo show written and performed by the titular comedian, currently selling out SoHo Playhouse through May 10th.
Blending humor and heart with trademark impressions of Jennifer Aniston, Jennifer Coolidge, and Drew Barrymore, just to name a few, the piece is a laugh-a-minute romp chronicling survival and identity – “Nepo niece is not the same as nepo baby,” she says, early on in the show – amidst “debt, divorce, and bad decisions”… that ultimately examines what it means to define yourself on your own terms.
Below, Travolta talks about the origin of the piece, the electricity of New York audiences, having trust in herself, and why collaboration is essential for growth… both onstage and off.
Can you talk about your background? What was the impetus to pursue writing and performing in the first place? How has your writing informed you as a performer?
This is honestly the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do. My childhood dream was to be the star of a CW show – I lived for Dawson’s Creek and 90210 – but I was always obsessed with performing and storytelling. For years, I thought of myself mostly as an actor and comedian, but writing this show really changed everything. It forced me to stop waiting for permission from others and to just trust my own voice. I think writing has made me a stronger performer because now, I’m not just stepping into someone else’s world. I’m also building my own.
Can you speak a bit about the history of the piece? What was the inspiration behind pursuing this topic?
The piece really came out of necessity and survival. I was in a chapter of my life that felt chaotic in every possible way - financially, emotionally, etc. [and] comedy has always been my way in, so instead of hiding all of it, I started writing about it. The inspiration was really the idea that so many people are quietly falling apart while still trying to hold it together [and] look fine. I wanted to explore that tension… the absurdity of pain, the humor in survival, and what it really looks like to rebuild [yourself] when life doesn’t go according to plan.
How is this production different from other works out there? Why should someone come to see it?
I think what sets this apart is the way it blends brutal honesty with comedy and character work. It’s a solo show, but it doesn’t feel static – it moves between stand-up, storytelling, and full-bodied transformations in a way that makes it feel very alive and theatrical. It’s personal without being precious, and vulnerable without losing its sense of humor.
People should come see it because the details may be specific to my life, but the emotional experience is incredibly universal. If you’ve ever felt like you were trying to hold it together while quietly falling apart, there’s something in my show for you. And ideally, you’ll laugh, maybe cry a little, and leave feeling a little less alone.
Given your comedic background, what do the impressions add to the piece?
The impressions definitely add comedy, but for me, they’re not just there as bits – they’re really part of the storytelling language of the show. Character work has always been such a huge part of how I process the world as a performer, and, in this show, the impressions almost function like emotional avatars. They create relief, heighten the absurdity, and help externalize different parts of the emotional journey. So yes, they’re entertaining, but they’re also deeply woven into the fabric of how the story gets told.
Can you talk about your collaboration with Paula [Christensen] and Margarett [Perry, the show’s co-directors] or any past directors you’ve had interpret your work? As a writer, how does that additional third-person perspective affect you, if at all?
I’ve been incredibly fortunate to be surrounded by truly brilliant women throughout the life of this piece. I started developing the show about three years ago with my original co-writer, Lauren Burns, and this current iteration was restructured and reimagined with Paula Christensen, who also co-wrote this version with me. And then, I’ve also had the pleasure of being directed by both Paula and Margarett Perry, as you’ve said, and they each brought such a strong eye and unique perspective to the work.
Even though the show is deeply personal and rooted in my own life, I really believe that if you want a piece to grow, you need trusted outside perspective. You need people who can lovingly tell you what’s landing, what’s not, where you’re holding on too tightly, and where the real heart of the piece is. We’ve absolutely had to kill some darlings in this new iteration, but that’s part of what makes the work stronger. I may be the only one alone on stage, but this show has absolutely been shaped by collaboration.
What about your relationship to the SoHo playhouse and New York audiences? Is there something specific about New York you can’t get anywhere else?
There’s something really special about New York audiences – they show up. They’re smart, they’re present, and they’re in it with you. Every night, it genuinely feels like I’m in the room with some of my best friends. There’s an energy here that feels incredibly alive and immediate, and that’s such a gift in a solo show.
And SoHo Playhouse has become my home! I did a limited run there in 2024, and they really became like family to me. When you’re spending that much time in one place, sharing something so personal night after night, that kind of connection means everything. Coming back for this run feels full circle, and there’s a real intimacy with New York audiences that I honestly don’t think you can find anywhere else.
This show has had many iterations from an initial run in NY to Vegas to LA, and beyond. How has the piece evolved through the years and productions? Do you find you evolve with it, or vice versa, if at all? And why is it important to you to keep performing the piece, or having it performed, for new audiences in different places? What does that accomplish?
Simply put, the show has grown because I’ve grown. Every new version has pushed me past another layer of fear and asked me to let people in a little more. In the beginning, I think I was still protecting myself inside parts of it… even while telling the story. Overtime, as I’ve become more honest with myself, the piece has become more honest, too. It’s gotten tighter, deeper, funnier, and more emotionally precise.
I don’t think great work happens in one perfect draft or one perfect production. The best work comes from staying with something and continuing to craft it… I really believe that. It comes from that willingness to keep shaping it, keep listening, and keep refining. Every city teaches me something new, and every audience teaches me something new.
And it matters to me to keep performing it for new audiences because, even though the details are specific to my life, all the feelings underneath it are universal. People connect to the mess, the shame, the survival, the reinvention. Again, if someone can laugh and feel a little less alone because of this show, then that’s it. That means everything to me.
In your opinion, how would you define “doing alright”?
Honestly, to me, “doing alright” means choosing yourself. It doesn’t mean everything is perfect, and it definitely doesn’t mean you have it all figured out. It means not abandoning yourself just because life got messy. If you’re being honest, if you’re still showing up, if you’re trying to come back to yourself… you’re doing alright.
Similarly, if you could offer one piece of advice to someone struggling to find their place, perhaps while navigating adulthood and attempting to “do alright,” what would it be and why?
Don’t confuse being lost with being behind. I think so many people feel like they’re failing just because their life doesn’t look how they thought it would by now. But some of the most important growth happens in the messiest, most uncertain seasons. Keep going. Stay honest. Stop abandoning yourself just because the timeline looks different than you expected. Sometimes finding your place is simply just learning how to come back to yourself.
What are your hopes for the next iteration? Where would you like to see it go next?
I absolutely see this piece having a life far beyond this production. My hope for the next iteration is that it continues to expand in terms of reach. I’d love to see it move into a larger commercial theater space, continue touring, and eventually evolve into a television series or special… that’d be fun. The dream has always been for this story to live in multiple forms. It’s deeply personal, but the response has shown me that the emotional core is incredibly universal. I want to keep building it in a way that allows it to reach as many people as possible.
Finally. what do you hope to instill in audiences as they come away from this piece?
I hope people leave feeling less alone. So much of the show is about the stuff we usually try to hide – [be it] shame, debt, heartbreak, bad coping mechanisms, [or] feeling like you’re behind – and if people can laugh and recognize themselves in it, that’s a goal accomplished. I want audiences to feel entertained, obviously, but also a little more seen, a little more hopeful, and maybe a little less hard on themselves. If the show can make someone feel like their “mess” doesn’t disqualify them from joy or reinvention, then I’ve done my job.
Thumbnail Photo Credit: Storm Santos
Nicole Travolta is Doing Alright plays SoHo Playhouse (15 Vandam Street) through May 10th. For tickets and/or more information, click here.
