The Narrator (Lameece Issaq) relates the events of her life in Lameece Issaq’s A Good Day to Me Not to You.
In her new solo show, A Good Day to Me Not to You, writer and star Lameece Issaq plays a wonderful, quirky, neurotic aunt—the type who makes you feel safe. It’s a character (identified only as Narrator) who is at odds with her situation in the play: according to a shaman, she carries “a spiritual infection” that has metastasized to her body, in the form of genital warts, or possibly from her body to her soul—it’s in both, and presents itself in a fear of sex, a fear of loneliness, and the Narrator’s withdrawal from the messiness of life to a nunnery. Even there, her life isn’t completely without angst—she meets a deranged woman, who greets her with “A good day to me, not to you.”
The Narrator’s response is “OK, I do not like this lady.” Elaborating on the reasons, she draws on her experience as a former orthodontics student: “Her teeth are gray, missing a lateral incisor, a canine.”
The Narrator (Lameece Issaq) emphasizes and embodies her passion during an anecdote. Photographs by Maria Baranova.
Woman: You’re no good. You don’t help people. I wish you bad luck! How you gonna have a good day if I wish you bad luck?!
Narrator: Ma’am. Your negative energy does not affect me.
Woman: Oh yeah?
Narrator [to audience]: The truth is, I think she’s cursing me and I’m freaking out.
Peiyi Wong’s set takes advantage of the high ceilings of the Connelly Theater in the East Village which, like so many buildings in New York, is a historic and repurposed one. She has decorated the space sparsely to give one the feeling of stepping into the play’s main setting, St. Agnes’s convent, the rooming house where the Narrator resides. Once the play’s locations start to change, however, it can be difficult to keep up with where the story goes—a scene on a train doesn’t feel like it’s on a train, for example—and it is often difficult to tell which character is speaking when there are more than two in a scene. Avi Amon’s sound design works well—when Issaq delivers her lines upstage with a bit of natural reverb, St. Agnes’s isolating cavernousness is really communicated—and the lighting by Mextley Couzin, which ranges from realistic to fantastical, reaches its most effective when its changes are the most subtle.
The Narrator (Lameece Issaq) pantomimes a story.
Issaq and director Lee Sunday Evans understand and emphasize the humanity of the Narrator, a orthodontics dropout in the throes of a midlife crisis, but despite the performer’s charisma and improvisational skill, one wonders who the character is underneath. Issaq alternates quickly from scene to scene, and her delivery often feels like spoken-word poetry, or as if she’s a storyteller at a party. Where the actress really brings the story to life is with her physical choices, terrific pantomimes that put clear images in one’s head. Most of this is not in the text at all—the script is only a skeleton on which she and Evans hang the Narrator’s physical journey. At times, however, Issaq just seems nervous. She makes gestures that don’t make sense, her voice trails off a few too many times to feel natural. Sometimes she plays off the audience—the audience often reacts, and she reacts back, and that can be exciting—but at other times, especially in the first half, she rushes past lines loaded with poignancy.
This is definitely a midlife crisis—the scenes keep that promise, but the purpose of the story is unclear. Throughout the play are effective and surprising moments that challenge the audience, but all they do together is ask a question. They don’t form a statement—the whole is not more than the sum of its parts.
In addition to direct addresses to the audience as the Narrator, Issaq also plays other characters—a couple of nuns, the Narrator’s brother-in-law, and the obnoxious St. Agnes resident. Most important, she plays her sister, the only dead character in the show, and it’s for these two sisters whom this show feels like an elegy; for everyone whose own annoying sister has died, who also dropped out of school, or who feels like they’ve failed. In her sister’s words, the show is about appreciating how “we consume and consume and we take and we take.” Issaq appears Photoshopped in the program, which is strange, given the play’s message—in one scene, she says to a character about their imperfect teeth, “They’re perfect. This is who you are”—but maybe the photograph isn’t so strange given that the play isn’t so sure.
Lameece Issaq’s A Good Day to Me Not to You runs through Dec. 16 at the Connelly Theater (220 E. 4th St.). Evening performances are at 7 p.m. Monday through Saturday; matinees are at 2 p.m. Saturdays (except Dec. 16). For tickets and more information, visit waterwell.org.
Playwright: Lameece Issaq
Director: Lee Sunday Evans
Sets: Peiyi Wong
Costumes: Jian Jung
Lighting: Mextley Couzin
Music & Sound Design: Avi Amon
