Who gets the privilege to dream — and at what cost? Ironbound is a tender, tragicomic meditation on love, endurance and survival in a system designed to exploit those with the least power. The play follows Darja (Cassandra Bissell), a Polish immigrant struggling to find stability in a country that repeatedly fails her.

Written by Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Martyna Majok and directed by Marcella Kearns, Ironbound carries a strong echo of Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot. In scenes spanning three decades, Darja waits at the same bus stop in Elizabeth, New Jersey, watching a series of men enter and exit her life while she stays put — waiting for a bus that never comes.

The set, designed by Lisa Schlenker, is so vivid it’s almost a character: A single streetlight illuminates cracked concrete, dead grass, scattered trash, and a tipped-over shopping cart filled with what might be someone’s entire world. A lone metal bench sits in front of a graffiti-covered chain-link fence, scraps of plastic bags snagged in the razor wire above. The environment is not merely a backdrop but a living extension of Darja’s inner world.

The play opens in 2014 with an argument between Darja and her boyfriend Tommy (Jonathan Wainwright), a tender-hearted but unreliable postal worker. When she accuses him of cheating on her with the rich woman whose house she cleans, Tommy pleads that nobody’s perfect. But Darja already knows that. “I weigh you on scale,” she tells him. If he wants her to stay, he’ll have to make it worth her while.

The scene jumps to 1992, where we meet a twenty-year-old Darja and her first husband, Maks (Josh Krause), another Polish immigrant. Maks is sexy and moody, longing to escape factory work and become a blues musician. But he can’t seem to understand Darja’s desire for material security. When Darja breaks the news that she’s pregnant, Maks stares grimly ahead as Darja shrinks into herself.

Bissell gives a riveting performance as Darja, her presence filling the stage, every gesture conveying the fierce urgency of her desire for a better life.

Throughout the play, Darja’s relationships with men become a series of calculations — how much affection can she afford, and what will it cost her?

After escaping an abusive second marriage, even kindness feels dangerous. During one of Darja's darkest moments, teenage Vic (Gabriel Anderle) appears and offers help, providing some welcome moments of levity and winning our hearts with his sweetly exuberant energy.

But Darja struggles to believe Vic wants to help her. Accepting assistance requires imagining a future she does not believe she deserves.

The one relationship untouched by calculation of risk and reward is Darja’s bond with her son, Alex. Although motherhood keeps her tethered to New Jersey and work that drains her spirit, it also offers her the deepest love she has ever known — a love that sustains her even as it limits her freedom.

Ironbound lays bare the vast, impassable distance between the wealthy and the working poor, and the invisibility of immigrant labor. Darja works in a factory until it closes, then cleans the homes of the rich. “These people,” she says wryly, “they would send their houses to China to be cleaned if they could.” The line lands with humor, but underscores how easily human lives are reduced to disposable services.

Will Darja ever find a balance between love, stability and autonomy? Or is survival itself the only victory available to her?

Though Ironbound premiered in 2014, it feels painfully current. As immigrants continue to be vilified, marginalized and deported, Forward Theater deepens the play’s resonance by including video interviews and information about local organizations supporting immigrant communities.

Ironbound is produced by Forward Theater and runs through Feb. 15 in the Overture Center Playhouse.