We want to believe that the arc of our lives is driven by our own agency.  But at least in its embellishments, life is full of random occurrences that color our existence.  As a small example, recently on a flight from Paris to Cotonou, Benin, my wife Karin engaged in conversation with another passenger.  Though working for Google in Silicon Valley, it turns out he was from Benin and visiting home.  The next day he hosted us to visit attractions, restaurants, and events that we would never have experienced as normal tourists, and it left a wonderful impression with us that we would have otherwise missed.

How often have we all been on planes or trains or elsewhere and observed the people around us?  Perhaps by their appearance; what they are reading or watching; and the food and drink they order, we may even concoct backstories in our mind about them.  Yet, for the greater part, we never talk to them.  Such is the premise of Keith Bunin’s The Coast Starlight, named for the Amtrak itinerary between Los Angeles and Seattle.  But this 36-hour gabfest is a grand “What if?”  The exchanges that we will witness between the passengers do not happen, but they are their thoughts of what might have been if they’d actually had the interest or courage to meet and interact with these strangers.

The Rebecca Haley Clark directed production by San Jose’s The Stage captivates from beginning to end.  Six passengers trickle onto a train car between Los Angeles and Oakland and disembark between Dunsmuir, CA and the end of the line.  The ensemble is exceptionally powerful, giving life and gravity to their portrayals; the characters are sharply drawn with stories that are compelling; and though the action occurs in a train car, the scenic design by Giulio Cesare Perrone makes the field of play larger and more dynamic.

As each character enters the carriage, we quickly learn what challenge they confront – love relationship, family, or job.  But the central figure who has the most challenging decision is T.J., portrayed with great magnetism by Braeden Harris, whose anxiety shows with his thoughtful expression emanating from his gestures, his eyes, and brows.  A Navy medic who is going AWOL over orders to deploy to Afghanistan, T.J. has already pulled a tour of duty there and sees the futility of risking his life in a conflict that seems to have no purpose and no end.

T.J. and Jane (Storm White), an animation artist who is going to Seattle with the expectation that a romance will end, are the first on the train.  Seated across from each other, like most people in real life, they steal glances at one another but fail to connect.

Along the way, Noah (Terrance Austin Smith) will board.  He had served in Afghanistan ten years before and represents a class of individuals who put a cause above their own needs.  He got nothing from serving and has led an aimless existence since mustering out, yet he believes in the greater good and fears the deaths that will occur in T.J.’s absence.  Noah can be viewed as an unquestioning patriot, whether his position is right or wrong.

T.J. will have to weigh the arguments as the clock ticks.  Should he concoct a story for his reporting late for duty and accept some punishment for his imprudence, or will he spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder in the country he loves or live in exile, never to come home again?

One minor flaw in the conceit that interactions are in the minds of the passengers is when they have soliloquies.  As Liz, Charlotte Boyce Munson arrives having abandoned her boyfriend at a couples retreat at Esalen.  She strikes a vein as either the oblivious or self-obsessed person who exposes all sorts of personal information by yakking on a cell phone at a volume that fills the room.  Did that really happen?  What about the entrance of Ed (Joel Roster) who has failed his way down the employment and family ladders and boards the train in a blithering, inebriated fog.  And finally, there’s Anna (Rinabeth Apostol), who has identified her dead brother and carries his ashes.  Does she really offer her sleeping berth to T.J., or is that her (or his) fantasy?

If the above seems to expose a lot of plot line, wait, there’s much more, and it’s highly enticing. In any case, the interactions are lively, and sometimes blistering, with poignant portraits of decent people fighting through lonely interludes yet not reaching out except in their imaginations.  Though the events could play in a claustrophobic setting, two devices open up the staging.  End-to-end projections (Erik Scanlon) on the back wall depict the California terrain as the train passes by.  Also, pairs of passenger seats are joined and on rollers, so they can be scooted around, which they often are, and at times playfully or joyously.

The people and situations that they face on the Coast Starlight resonate in an extremely clever script executed with excellence.

The Coast Starlight, written by Keith Bunin, is produced by The Stage and plays at its home at 490 South 1^st Street, San Jose, CA through April 26, 2026.