By Aria Peyton June 1, 2025
Photo: Courtesy of The Marsh
From the moment Doodler begins, you sense this isn’t conventional theater—it’s a labyrinthine dive into a chilling slice of San Francisco’s queer past, rendered with raw intimacy and theatrical bravado. John Fisher, both playwright and lone performer, commands The Marsh stage with layered intensity and meticulous control, delivering a one-man magnum opus unafraid to confront the shadows of a mystifying unsolved true‑crime case.
Set in 1970s San Francisco, Doodler follows a young man, only ever known as “Jack”, whose coming‑out journey collides with horror when a serial killer begins preying on gay men across the Castro, Polk, and North Beach neighborhoods. Dubbed “The Doodler” for his sinister habit of sketching victim portraits, this criminal initially entered the public imagination as eerie folklore. But Fisher transforms him, and Jack’s obsession, into something tangibly horrifying. The backdrop of liberation, community, and fear pulses throughout, grounding the suspense in a deeply emotional core.
What unfolds is more than a murder mystery. Fisher wears every hat onstage, actor, director, stagehand, even house manager, all live. This self-sufficient theatrical feat roots the audience firmly in Jack’s psyche, as though the drama unfolds unmediated, edge‑of‑seat real. Critics have described the experience as feeling like “there is no one else at the theater to save you.” That chilling intimacy isn’t a gimmick, it’s a structural choice, one that pushes tension and empathy into high gear.
Fisher’s performance is electric. He shifts effortlessly across roles: the naive college student, wary friends, even spectral echoes of the killer’s presence. There’s an emotional honesty that grounds the more theatrical turns, an unraveling of innocence as Jack’s fascination becomes terror. It’s a delicate arc from self-discovery to obsession, sustained with precision and nerve.
The historical stakes enrich the narrative. The Doodler murders, dating back to 1974–75, claimed up to sixteen lives and remain unsolved, an enduring wound in San Francisco’s queer collective memory. Doodler doesn’t aim to solve the mystery. Instead, it preserves its ambiguity, honoring both the victims lost and the questions that linger. In doing so, it becomes more than theater: a living memorial, a reminder of community vulnerability and history’s unresolved scars.
Despite the subject matter, the show balances tone with remarkable dexterity. There’s dry humor, flashes of camp, and brief reprieves of warmth that keep it from sinking into hopelessness. One moment you’re laughing; the next, your throat tightens with dread. This tonal balance is a testament to Fisher’s craft and direction, shared with Colin Johnson, who also oversees the hauntingly minimal lighting and sound design.
Clocking in at roughly 100 minutes with no intermission, Doodler is lean and potent—tight storytelling that allows no space for distraction. The staging is bare by necessity, spotlighting Fisher’s every move and vocal inflection. When he redraws a scene or jumps to a new character, the shift feels surgical. You’re not watching reenactments, you’re watching a man attempt to piece together trauma with narrative, trying to understand the shape of his own fear.
Without spoiling a thing, let’s just say the ending doesn’t settle easily. It lingers. Fisher doesn’t offer closure, and that’s exactly the point. Sometimes the most frightening part of a story is the part that won’t end.
Doodler is now playing at The Marsh San Francisco, located at 1062 Valencia Street in the Mission District. Performances run from May 31 through July 6, 2025, with shows on Saturdays at 8 PM and Sundays at 3 PM. Ticket prices range from $25–$35 for general admission and $50–$100 for reserved seating, with a $3 convenience fee per ticket.
For more info - The Marsh
This isn’t just another night at the theater, it’s a haunting excavation of identity, obsession, and survival. Whether you’re drawn to true crime, LGBTQ+ history, or virtuoso solo performance, Doodler offers an unforgettable 100-minute descent into the unknown.
– Aria Peyton
Aria Peyton is a Bay Area–based arts critic who writes about theater, dance, and cultural memory. She believes solo performance is one of the last raw spaces where art can truly unsettle—and Doodler proves it.
