Welcome to Curtain Call, our mostly queer take on the latest openings on Broadway and beyond.
The Rundown:
If the title of Noah Diaz’s newest play You Will Get Sick makes you uncomfortable, then that’s a sign you should go see it. The Sam Pinkleton-directed production tells the story of a gay man, #1 (Daniel K. Isaac, Billions), who has been recently diagnosed with an unnamed degenerative illness and pays a stranger, #2 (Linda Lavin), to break the news of his diagnosis to his family and friends. In the process, Diaz makes the case to re-examine our own relationship to disability.
No Tea, No Shade:
#1 doesn’t dread being sick as much as he dreads having to tell people he is sick. He tells #2 over the phone, and she voyeuristically asks “how bad is it?” As #2, Lavin is less the doting grandmother and more the “get off my lawn” type, that is, unless you have a buck or two in your pocket in exchange for caretaking services.
Isaac gives a controlled performance when navigating these conversations and highlights the irony in his friends’ and family’s heightened emotional responses. When he tells his sister (Marinda Anderson) she immediately responds, “my suitcase is full,” and trembles with anxiety. Isaac’s face doesn’t crack; he just scoots over and gently massages her head.
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These conversations become less about his experiences living with a disability and more about everyone else’s fear of getting sick. But that fear should be reframed. In an interview for The Advocate, Maria Town, the president of the American Association of People with Disabilities, said that “everyone will become disabled if they’re lucky enough.” She’s referring to the reality that if all goes well, we will get old, develop some type of disability (hearing loss, mobility issues, vision loss, etc.), and die.
Diaz is delightfully playful in how he portrays our fear of that inevitability. Throughout the play, there are references to giant birds that loom, ready to snatch up anyone at any time, though they mostly prey on sick people. Pre-historic caws echo in the theatre as a reminder of the omnipresent threat. The birds are so fear-inducing that some characters even get bird insurance to prevent themselves from being captured. But the bird never shows up for #1.
The much more real threat is the stigma against living with a disability. That stigma vilifies needing help and prevents us from nurturing a community that supports each other through this universal experience. In response, #1 only accepts help that he can pay for and refers to his caretaker as a “business associate.” By commodifying his disability, he is able to maintain his “value” in society.
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But #1 also comes from a queer community familiar with this stigma. Since the onset of the HIV/AIDS epidemic, people living with HIV have had to rely on community-based mutual aid to survive. These efforts provide housing, food security and emotional support while also normalizing community care among queer folks. Queer activists quickly responded to the crisis with support, but it took the U.S. Social Security Administration 2 years after the first case of HIV was recorded in New York in 1981 to extend disability benefits to people living with HIV. #1 comes from a queer legacy of activism that refuses to let the status quo define how people living with disabilities are treated.
Let’s Have a Moment:
#1 is trapped. He is cornered and forced to contend with people’s biases against disability, birds that prey on sick people, and his own relationship to his sick body. Scenic design by dots and Cha See’s lighting create the physical representation of his confinement and eventual liberation.
Two grey slates are set perpendicular to each other; #1 sits at the corner where the slates intersect. As #1 continues to encounter the ableist biases of an acting coach, insurance salesman, and coworker, sharply angled shadows further constrict the slated corner into darkness. Eventually, there is only a sliver of light left for #1 to occupy.
The Last Word:
In an interview with New York Live, Isaac describes #1 and #2 as city folk who “know how to be fiercely independent [and] take care of oneself.” Although admirable, it’s a flawed mindset that shames people living with disabilities. By the end of the play both characters trade in individualism for collectivism.
But how do we follow in their example and rid ourselves of the ableist biases that make it so taboo to ask for help? It all starts by acknowledging that, eventually, we will all get sick.
You Will Get Sick is presented by Roundabout Theatre Company and plays Off-Broadway at the Laura Pels Theatre through December 11, 2022.
bachy
The intention behind the writing of this play can only be described as heroic.
Kangol2
Though the description of this play is a bit convoluted, I do want to see it because both Daniel Isaac and Linda Lavin are in it, and it’s a Roundabout Theatre production.