Sunshine on a Cloudy Day

Liz Coin ’19 longed to play leading roles in her high school theater performances. But after repeatedly landing the part of “the funny side character,” she realized comedy might be her calling. So, she ran with it.

Next thing she knew, Coin found herself at Northwestern, where she majored in radio/television/film while also attending The Second City’s Conservatory, an advanced-level improvisation program in Chicago.

Now, Coin is striking out on her own as the star of her one-woman show, Lizzy Sunshine, which debuted in 2024 and sold out during its off-Broadway run at SoHo Playhouse in New York City this summer. The show follows its titular character as she performs what is supposed to be a two-person variety show alone after her co-star bails. Lizzy Sunshine explores addiction, family dynamics, toxic positivity — the idea that one should only express positive, not negative, emotions — and more. 

In August, Coin will take Lizzy Sunshine to the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, where, she says, “you can go see a weird basement clown show in the afternoon and then at night go see a musical that’s going to be on Broadway in a couple years.” 

She took a break from packing for her trip to Scotland to chat with Northwestern Magazine about the show, her time in Evanston and her journey as a creative.

Liz Coin. Photo Credit: Joshua Going

What is Lizzy Sunshine about?

The show is about a woman who does a two-person variety show with her brother. They’ve been doing the show for a long time, but at this performance, she motions for his big entrance, and he doesn’t show up. So she has to scramble to cover all the parts and make it look like nothing’s wrong — because the show must go on. 

It’s a metaphor for what it feels like to be the little sister of someone with addiction. … It’s about being this hyper-positive, fix-it type character, but behind the scenes, it’s not so good.

The show is inspired by true events. My older brother has a long history of health troubles and now, in his later years, cycles of addiction. There’s this common thread among those of us who are close to someone with addiction. We have this cheerleader trait — this extra positive “it’s going to be OK” quality. … Typically, we talk about the person suffering from addiction, and they’re the main character of the story. But in this case, Lizzy Sunshine is the main character.

What was your creative process like?

I really learned patience in this process. I have been a performer and a writer for a long time, writing sketch comedy and characters and doing improv. But this one was different. It came together slowly. The way I explain it is that it already existed within this block of ice, and I just had to chisel the ice away to reveal the final product.

Your shows at the SoHo Playhouse were sold out. What is it like to perform the show?

It’s the coolest thing in the world because you have no idea how it’s going to go until you put it in front of people. Every time I did the show, I got a little braver at inviting more people. You have to throw away your shame and be like, “Hey, I’m doing this thing. I know we haven’t talked in three years, but I’d love if you can come.”

Bringing it to my hometown, Bettendorf, Iowa, where my family would see it … felt interesting and vulnerable. My English teacher from high school came, as well as people who didn’t know this story. I thought, “If I can do the show there, I can do it anywhere.” 

You trained at The Second City. How did you know you wanted to go into comedy?

I wanted to go to Northwestern because it was near Chicago and The Second City. I was dead set on going to The Second City’s Conservatory before I finished undergrad, so I did it during my junior and senior year. I don’t know who green-lit that, but once I get an idea in my head, I do it. That’s when I locked into doing it professionally.

Before that, I just was always doing theater but would only get cast as the funny parts. I wanted to be Éponine in Les Mis so bad, but I was cast as Madame Thénardier — and it was the right move. I’m not the lead; I’m the funny old woman in the corner. 

I loved Northwestern. I got to take a bunch of classes that weren’t comedy classes but made me a more well-rounded thinker — like mysticism and spirituality, German and an ancient Greek literature class. And it gave me my closest friends and my support system, which, as an artist, is everything. My two best friends in the world — Bryan Holden ’19 and Teresa De Pinto ’18 — they both came and surprised me at my show when I did it in my hometown. 

How did you start teaching improv in rehabilitation centers? 

During COVID, I couldn’t perform very much. I was living in Chicago and was like, “What am I going to do with my niche skills?” 

My brother, who’s been in rehab centers, always [complained about] how boring they are on the weekends. So, I thought, “I bet these centers are looking for programming … I could teach improv.” The coolest thing about it is the human connection. 

Now that I’m in New York, I’ve been going into corporate offices and using improv as a tool for communication and connection. It is my hope that after Lizzy Sunshine, I can start teaching more in rehab centers. That’s my favorite place to teach improv. I think laughter is the best medicine, so let’s go be silly and walk around the room and pretend we’re all dinosaurs.

Avantika Singh is an editorial intern for Northwestern Magazine.

This interview has been edited for clarity.