By Alix Cohen

The thespian walks onto a stage empty but for a chair and ghost light. “It still smells like stale coffee and opening night nerves…” He drops his bag breathing in familiar atmosphere; anxious, excited, tremulous, fearful. “Good evening, my friends…You came back.” Pleasure, surprise and vulnerability shimmer. The theater is, in fact, deserted but for a guard up in the gods. (high balcony.)

Sebastian Drake is a classical warhorse, a grey-haired Shakespearean actor determined to finally play King Lear, the biggest challenge, one he saved for last. “Lear is not lines, it’s weather! If you don’t have your barometer, the play will drown you.”

He unpacks a crown and robe. A brochure flutters to the ground. Welcome to Willow Crest, a retirement home for seniors, its cover says. Frowning, he stuffs it away. “It’s been too long since I’ve had an excuse to warm up…” Drake paces the floor doing vocal exercises, acknowledging his voice is “dusty.” He’s somewhat stiff. “Even glaciers creak before they move.”

“You came back…I said that already.” Confusion migrates across his face. Where is the director? Is he early for the audition?
“Tyrone Guthrie said every Shakespearean actor should be able to recite six lines in a single breath.” Drake tries and falls far short, then briefly misplaces a crown placed on the back of the chair.

“I have walked these boards since the messenger in Macbeth…They’ll see that I’m not done yet…” Testing, he launches into a passage out of Shakespeare. The play is peppered with these: King Lear, Hamlet, Richard III, Macbeth, As You Like It, and King Henry V are quoted.

Daughter Emily repeatedly telephones (voice over.) First, to remind Drake they’re visiting the “home” tomorrow and to assure him that “we’ll look, we’ll leave, we’ll get pie,” then increasingly concerned he hasn’t responded. (We don’t need to hear her voice every time.) “Damn it, Cordelia, I am not your patient or your child. I’m your king!” he exclaims (Lear)

“All we have to do as actor is not get in the way of this fabulous verse…To be or not to be, that is the question…” Hamlet’s speech arrives flawless. Some do. Others halt in fog part way. Drake becomes still, pausing until rusty memory works. “Memory is a shy animal. If you wait without moving…” He disinters a wooden sword. “Do not play at danger, we have real breath to spend…”

“Tell me, my daughters (Since now we will divest us both of rule, Interest of territory, cares of state), Which of you shall we say doth love us most?…” (Lear) King Lear’s escalating dementia has become intimate territory.

A door opens and closes. “Hello?” he asks, startled. Where was I?” Drake reflects on his career, mentors, Maggie- his deceased? wife and good right arm. She speaks to him at one point. He shares feelings about interpreting the bard’s work and enacts speeches.

One of these flares so forcefully the actor loses breath and panting, grasps the chair. “Why did I wait so long?!…Film actors get twenty takes, we get one!” Voices in Drake’s imagination disparage him as a has-been. Bile erupts; he apologizes. Every sound in the theater is worrisome. Is he not in the right place on the right day? At last he admits to leaving the gas on, that he’s losing his axis. It’s as if the air goes out of him. The actor must exit without his last hurrah.

“Out, out, brief candle!/Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,/That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,/And then is heard no more. It is a tale/Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.” (Macbeth)

Paul Shearman delivers a curtain speech encouraging compassion. Dementia is not a given, the playwright tells us.
When an artist defines himself by his craft, what ensues without it?
He’s written a book (there’s no mention of this in person) – The Last Audition- Reinventing a Creative Life After 60.
“Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” (Dylan Thomas)

This is a wonderful piece- entertaining, illuminating, and very moving. Go, if you can.

Voice Overs: Laurel Burns, Leo Durocher, A.J. Donnelly, Sean Toland, Lavinia Wesser

“Dedicated to those living with dementia and the caregivers who support them with patience, compassion, and love.”

The Last Audition
Written and Performed by Paul Shearman
Directed by David St. John
New York City Fringe at The Chain Theater 312 West 36th Street 4th floor
Remaining Performances April 15 at 6:00, April 17 at 7:40
Tickets: https://frigid.nyc/festivals/new-york-city-fringe/
The Play: https://lastaudition.com/