Sean Hayes stars as a writer facing a crisis in David Cale’s The Unknown (photo by Emilio Madrid)
THE UNKNOWN
Studio Seaview
305 West 43rd St. between Eighth & Ninth Aves.
Through April 12, $158-$349, streaming $89
studioseaview.com
There are only a few seats left for each of the final performances of David Cale’s The Unknown at Studio Seaview, but the last four shows, on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, will also be available as a livestream so you can watch this creepy psychological thriller from the comfort of your own home, where you’re likely to have seen star Sean Hayes in Will & Grace, if not also Martin & Lewis and The Millers. Just be sure to keep the lights off.
Following up his Tony-winning portrayal of Oscar Levant in Good Night, Oscar, Hayes is Elliott, a New York City writer experiencing a bad case of writer’s block. “I don’t know, maybe it’s from spending too much time surfing the internet, and it’s affected my ability to concentrate, but I was having a hard time keeping focused,” he tells us at the beginning.
He accepts an offer from his best friends, Larry and Chloe, to stay for a while in their isolated upstate cabin, but the first day he is there he hears a voice singing, “I Wish You’d Wanted Me,” a song from his hit musical. The sound echoes around the theater, enveloping everyone, but Elliott doesn’t find anyone around the place. Out of cellphone range, he later calls Larry, who claims it is not some kind of prank. Elliott also chooses not to contact the police, the first of numerous possible mistakes he makes as he realizes that the story he is involved in might be just the one to end his block, no matter the consequences.
Solo specialist Cale (The Redthroats, Deep in a Dream of You) and director Leigh Silverman (On the Exhale, The Search for Signs of Intelligent Life in the Universe) previously collaborated on Harry Clarke and Sandra, so they know their way around one-person plays, but The Unknown drifts into TV-detective territory with a convoluted plot that feels overstuffed even at a mere seventy minutes, with several unnecessary scenes and a disappointing twist ending.
Hayes does a fine job on a spare set, standing in front of a brick wall as he switches between Elliott, Larry, Chloe, the mysterious Joey Dupain, and others. Cha See’s lighting maintains a noirish feel, accompanied by Caroline Eng’s sound design and Isobel Waller-Bridge’s music. There are intimate, revealing moments, including one that got a gasp out of the audience, as the concept of stalking is stretched to its limits, but there are just not enough chills. Maybe watching it home alone will offer a better opportunity to get past some of its inscrutability.
[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]