“But I’m not special. I am a person, and when you’re a person, all kinds of really terrible things can happen to you. It’s why my father died the way he did, and if I die the same way, it’s going to be for the same reason. Because I’m a person. Just like my father. Just like my Uncle John. Just like everybody.”
It is close to the end of the virtual production, and for the first time, we see the narrator sit in front of the camera completely neutral. No mask, no excessive costume, and no special lighting. The narrator takes this moment to stare right into the eyes of the remote viewers to share this intimate, honest piece of self-reflection.
The unexpected moment of intimacy might fill you with a mix of emotions – this writer certainly felt surprise, but also a deep connection to the narrator. On its own, the reflection carries relevance. As the play demonstrates, we all experience pain, and life is about navigating our way through that journey. However, in light of the pandemic, you might also find that the moment carries a new level of urgency. Not only do we all feel pain, but we all experience it together. No matter how alone we might feel, there is almost certainly someone else feeling something similar. As heartbreaking as that might be, there is also some hope, and the knowledge that we will make it through.
Lauren Katz is a freelance director and dramaturge, and new to the Chicago Theatre Scene. She recently moved from Washington DC, where she worked with Mosaic Theater Company of DC in Company Management, as well as directed around town with various theaters.
Nominated for Picture This Post BEST OF 2020
Nominated for Picture This Post BEST OF 2020