Nestled inside a South Miami-Dade strip mall, somewhere between Pinecrest and Palmetto Bay, surrounded by places where you can get your rims done, buy parts for a German car or pick out tile for your floor, there is an almost unmarked garage door.

Walk through it and, in a strange Narnia kind of way, you’re transported into a magical little black-box theater.

Welcome to True Mirage Theater.

True Mirage’s new permanent home might be one of the most interesting theatrical spaces in South Florida. And if its first productions are any indication, artistic director Daniel Gil and his wife and creative partner, Darcy Hernandez-Gil, aren’t interested in playing it safe.

Their inaugural production in the space was My Name Is Rachel Corrie, the controversial play constructed from the writings of the American activist killed by an Israeli military bulldozer in Gaza in 2003. Producing it in Miami was a swing.

Gil told Artburst that True Mirage was essentially “the little theater company that could with the tiny budget that we have” taking a chance other theaters weren’t.

And context matters. Miami theater has become something of an incubator for Jewish storytelling in recent years, with important work coming from some of our favorite companies, including Miami New Drama, GableStage and Zoetic Stage.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. Those stories deserve to be told.

In fact, the best theater in town, Miami New Drama, world-premiered two Jewish-centric plays bound for New York, Here There are Blueberries (Broadway this Fall) and Birthright (Off Broadway this summer). They’ve done more: The Zionists, Bad Dog, to name a couple.

But if that’s the only perspective being presented, then something is missing.

South Florida theater should make room for opposing perspectives, uncomfortable perspectives and stories audiences might not otherwise encounter.

Carrie: The Musical

Their next big swing? The professional Miami premiere of Carrie: The Musical.

Based on Stephen King’s novel, Carrie follows the bullied, fanatically religious Carrie White as she discovers telekinetic powers before everything famously goes to hell at the prom.

True Mirage’s production, directed by Gil and choreographed by Hernandez-Gil, was impressive almost immediately. The young ensemble came out belting the opening number and within minutes one thing was obvious: this wasn’t high-school theater. It wasn’t college theater. This was professional theater performed largely by actors who happen to still be in high school or college.

Emma Van Assche brought both vulnerability and serious vocal range to Carrie, while Celia Voges provided an important moral center as Sue Snell. Hernandez-Gil, playing Carrie’s terrifyingly religious mother Margaret, displayed tremendous vocal power herself. Brenda Duran also showed real comic presence in the smaller role of Norma.

But what was fascinating was how aggressively Carrie leaned into adolescent sexuality.

The production is touchy, physical, hormonal.

There are homoerotic undertones, sexual fantasies, bouncing cleavage, religious repression, menstruation, pig’s blood, bullying and gore. It isn’t sexy at all. It’s sexual, clumsy, awkward, sometimes uncomfortable, not unlike adolescence.

Which is probably the point.

And somehow this is happening in a tiny black box hidden inside an industrial strip in Kendall.

Gil recently told The Jitney that True Mirage has “bitten off more than we can chew at some points,” but they’ve continued scraping by. He’s grateful simply to be doing it.

South Florida needs weird rooms in unexpected places where artists can take chances.

True Mirage is taking them.

And that little garage door might be onto something.