Joan Marcus                        Michael Emerson in 'Wakey, Wakey'

 

                                                   By David Schultz

The music of Maurice Ravel floats in your ears as you await the play to begin. The gradually escalating strains of Bolero reach their well-earned crashing crescendo, and then the lights shine brightly on a man facedown on the floor…as he gasps aloud “Is it now? I thought I had more time”.  This man, cunningly named Guy (Michael Emerson) will be our tour guide and host for the seventy-five minute evening at hand. Very little information is given about this man that we see for the remaining part of the evening sitting in a wheelchair. It is obvious that he is sick, and dying and reflecting on his life and what may lie beyond.

The stage is littered with various cardboard boxes, some open, some taped up, clumps of disheveled clothes are strewn about. The visual space is purposely vague; a wooden doorway sits nearby, with two small trees giving the scene a semblance of balance. Guy speaks directly to the audience frequently, breaking the fourth wall. As he surveys his surroundings he indicates, “This is all from before. The secret plans and ideas of people who time ran out on”.

Playwright/director Eno covered similar territory before most memorably in Thom Pain (based on nothing).  This new work seems to be a companion piece in many respects. Minimal plot, eloquent ruminations, and a dense stream-of-consciousness descending/ascending into the mind of this gentle soul in his final hours of life make this man spring to life. Briefly…. Ahhh, but what a ride it is.

Guy teases and plays with the audience at hand. Using a video screen above, various slides and videos are shown. Word games are also used similar to Wheel of Fortune. Gingerly holding cue cards, various statements and open-ended questions are bandied about. At one point Guy posits a salient point…”We’re here to say good-bye and maybe hopefully also get better at saying hello”….”To celebrate Life, if that doesn’t sound too passive-aggressive”. 

He plays an insane video of a wide assortment of animals screaming, giving the audience a momentary release of laughter. Even in the face of death, humor and sighs of relief are not far from reach.  The verbal dexterity of this man’s thought process zig and zag constantly, not unlike a pinball machine gone haywire. At one point Guy asks to think about “someone way back who nudged you a couple of degrees in this direction or that, and now, after all that time and distance, the whole trajectory of your life, because of that tiny change, is unrecognizably different”. 

A surprise visitor appears to Guy near the close of the play. Guy’s nurse, Lisa (January Lavoy) attends to his needs, compassionate yet coolly professional. Is she really there? Is she a figment of Guy’s fertile imagination? Guy opens up, ever so slightly as he visibly deteriorates mentally and struggles with his physical movements. The inevitable is just around the corner, calmly waiting.  

But the entire evening has been so ebullient and buoyant with so much to think about that the final release is not sad or tearful.  At the penultimate finale a shattering, intense video is shown detailing Guy’s entire life, both forward and backwards, a disco ball glows giving the audience a light speckled glow, bubbles ……gazillions of bubbles shower the audience, as brightly colored balloons fall from the ceiling.

The subtle imperceptible gradations of emotion are well performed by actor Michael Emerson as Guy. His performance seems entirely improvised on the spot. This uncanny ability to seem unscripted gives his performance a gravitas and grace that seem effortless.  Ms. LaVoy matches him on every level as she fills her small role with intimate graceful gestures and fills the stage with innate warmth. 

Wakey,Wakey, will wake one’s unconsciousness to new levels of awareness. Plus you get bubbles, balloons, free Chinese fortune cookies, and for the lucky few a free stress ball. What’s not to like?

 

Playing at The Pershing Square Signature Center, 480 West 42^nd Street.

Runs through April 2^nd

Tickets $30-$50    212 244-7529    signaturetheatre.org