Peter Anthony Fields, one of this blog’s readers, sent me news of a play he recently wrote, titled “That Guy,” and I bought it on Amazon. I’ll copy the book’s back cover summary here, then dive into my review.
Summary from the Back Cover
A playwright who receives inspiration by interacting with the imagined characters from the play that he is currently writing, is struggling through a period of writer’s block as his characters have “stopped talking” to him. He soon begins to experience a strong resurgence of depression and anxiety, along with other physical and cognitive impairments. After receiving a devasting diagnosis, he is determined to get his life headed in a productive and positive direction. But despite his best efforts, everything that matters the most in his life seems to be on the verge of falling apart.
So, here’s my take. The play’s main character, Stephen, is a 38-year-old playwright who lives in Cleveland, Ohio. Gay, but no boyfriend. He writes plays by imagining a cast of characters, and as he watches the characters interact with each other in his mind, he writes down what they do and say.
The play opens in medias res, in that he’s already got four characters that he’s created (who appear on the stage with Stephen), and he’s already showing symptoms of Parkinson’s disease (stooped shoulders, trembling hand, foggy thinking, lack of verbal fluency), although he hasn’t seen a doctor yet. One of his invented characters, Rocky, is an abrasive hoodlum. Throughout the play, Rocky verbally abuses Stephen, and Stephen doesn’t fight back.
Then there are the “real-life” characters, including Stephen’s cousin, Gillian, who lives in the same apartment building as Stephen. Gillian works in the theater world, too, assisting directors by designing and managing costumes. She has a sharp-tongued girlfriend, Katie, who directs plays, and halfway through the story, Stephen’s best friend from high school, Phillip, shows up after a successful 20-year career on Broadway.
Spoiler Alert!
If you want to buy the book and discover for yourself what transpires, don’t read anything else that I’m about to say. Otherwise, carry on!
The topics of suicide and death are woven into the play right from the first scene. Gillian is visiting and urging Stephen to finish the script he’s currently working on, but Stephen keeps hesitating. When Gillian sees how paltry his current draft is, she pulls up from her phone a piece of writing Stephen wrote earlier. I’ll copy what she says here:
Gillian: I still have this file on my phone, okay. From a year and a half ago. You told me this bit was a father talking to his adult son who is about to off himself, so the dad is trying to talk him down. It’s an amazing piece of writing…(Reading:) ‘Son, I want you to really hear what I have to say to you. You admit that you’re imperfect and that you make mistakes. You say the wrong things sometimes…or the right things the wrong way. You say there are a lot of times when you try to be helpful but end up being an annoyance. You always felt that you were strange and never quite fit in anywhere. But I’m going to tell you the truth, now: on this great big earth which holds billions of people and throughout the whole of space with trillions of stars, and planets, and moons…in a vastness that challenges and defies comprehension…there is, and ever will be, only one you. That uniqueness is staggering, almost incomprehensible. Do you feel the weight of what I am saying? Do you appreciate the power, the awesomeness of its truth? That’s the real truth. For all of your flaws and disappointments, you should always celebrate yourself, because you are one-of-a-kind. This time you’ve been given, is your time to affect the world positively, to do good, to live and to give…love.’
In the second scene, we meet Katie, Gillian’s girlfriend, who is currently directing a play whose themes include suicide. When Stephen compliments Katie on how terrific her production is, she says, “Thank you. I was just drawn to it. It’s such a powerful story with an important message, but it’s really challenging to stage. So many people have lost friends or family to suicide, and it’s a topic most people aren’t willing to talk about because it’s just too painful.”
Even Rocky, the rough-speaking character in Stephen’s play, pulls out a gun and attempts to give it to Stephen, saying, “Here ya go, friend. This is what you need. Take care of all your problems, just like that. What d’ya say, huh? Check out of this life like a real man.”
All of this transpires while Stephen is dealing with the early symptoms of Parkinson’s: forgetfulness, tremors, inability to remember the words he wants to say, and so on. Finally, he makes an appointment with his doctor, who refers him to a neurologist, who diagnoses Parkinson’s. This freaks Stephen out, and he and the doctor discuss the potentially gruesome end stages of the disease. This surprised me, because when I was diagnosed (by three different neurologists), they were all upbeat about my immediate future, and two of them rather jokingly said, “When you’re 90 years old, you may need a wheelchair.”
Here’s how Stephen’s doctor responds when Stephen says, “So, the meds will make it better? Like, stop it from getting any worse, right?”
And the doctor says, “Stephen, I need you to be clear about this. Parkinson’s does not get better, and it is not held at bay by the medication. It is a progressive, degenerative brain disease. It only gets worse. It’s extremely important that you understand that.”
Ouch!
Later in the conversation, the doctor adds, “The chances of you dying from complications of PD are…high….Most commonly either choking, caused by difficulties swallowing, or from pneumonia, resulting from the inhalation of food particles into the lungs, which is also due to swallowing difficulties.”
Double ouch!
After that, the play continues, with Stephen’s characters arguing with him, and with his real-life friends acting shocked and worried as Stephen informs them one by one that he has Parkinson’s. When Philip, Stephen’s best friend from high school, returns to Cleveland after a successful 20-year stint in the New York theater world, he and Stephen resume their friendship. This leads to a fateful moment when Stephen tries to kiss Philip, and Philip pushes him away. Part of the reason Philip rejects Stephen is the Parkinson’s.
“And then there’s the Parkinson’s thing,” Philip says. “I mean, wow, talk about a bombshell. That one really came out of nowhere. I just don’t think I could handle that…watching you slowly…(A beat) I realize this all makes me sound like a real asshole, but…I’m just being honest.”
Ouch again!
With so much negativity in Stephen’s life, what is he going to do? Well, you’ll have to buy the book and read the final scene.
Two things struck me about this play. First, so many heavy topics are woven together in a seemingly random manner that I had to read it a few times to sort them out. (I enjoyed rereading the book.) There are backstories about Stephen’s life when he was younger, and a lingering question as to why he didn’t follow Philip to New York when they were both young and best buddies (and potential lovers?).
Then, I think most of the characters overreact when they learn about Stephen’s PD. Stephen’s conversation with his doctor about potential death scenarios was quite foreign to me. I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s almost ten years ago, and since then I’ve gone to two movement disorder specialists who couldn’t be more upbeat about how well I’m doing with the disease. More than once I’ve heard each mumble “Amazing…” to herself as I go through the routine of physical tasks that make up most of my appointment.
Maybe the characters in “That Guy” are overreacting because they’re so young. I recall an article I read long ago in the New York Times about a group of 20-somethings who, at a dinner party, asked the following question as a sort of parlor game: “Would you rather have A.L.S., Alzheimer’s, or Parkinson’s?”
Here’s what the Times’ writer wrote (she had A.L.S. but had not told anyone):
“Would you rather have A.L.S., Alzheimer’s, or Parkinson’s?” someone asked. All those diseases are devastating, but A.L.S. is unique in that it usually kills within two to three years of diagnosis. It was just a game to my friends, all of whom are in their 20s. Everyone chose A.L.S., agreeing that it would be the fastest and therefore easiest death.
While I don’t know much about A.L.S. or Alzheimer’s, I’m living with Parkinson’s every day. The biggest problem I face is that I work at a demanding job (thank you, Covid 19 Pandemic!) that doesn’t give me enough free time to do the things I’ve found that make me happy and healthy. (To see some of these, click here! here! here! here!)
And I unfortunately do not have enough time to read fascinating books, such as “That Guy.”
Thank you, Peter Anthony Fields, for the great read! Best of luck with your future writing!
Bruce, I just now read your blog re: “That Guy”. Enjoyed reading your review with your personal take on the subject. Thank you for sharing! Hope your COVID days are easing up and that you can find the time to do what you enjoy. Melissa