Theatre in Review: Other (Greenwich House Theatre)

	Ari'el Stachel. Photo: Ogata

Other begins on Ari'el Stachel's evening of triumph, winning the Tony Award for Best Featured Actor in a Musical for his performance in The Band's Visit. The after-party is a nightmare, however, with the actor visibly wilting as total strangers approach him with their (often boneheaded) congratulations, driving him to spend longer and longer time-outs in the men's room, obsessively washing his hands and face, until he passes out. This is not the Tony night most young theatrical hopefuls dream about.

"I am an incredibly anxious person," Stachel announces, in the understatement of the year. It's a lifelong problem and multi-determined. Among other things, it is rooted in his mismatched parents -- a mother who is American Ashkenazi Jew and a father who is a Yemeni Israeli -- and their short-lived marriage. It was exacerbated by a childhood in the shadow of 9/11, being constantly mistaken for an Arab. There may be even more fundamental reasons, but, in any case, Stachel saw a therapist at age five and was on medication at age six. Neither was of much help, although his therapist suggested finding a name for the punitive voice in his head. His choice: Meredith, after Meredith Blake, the wicked stepmother wannabe in the Lindsay Lohan version of The Parent Trap. Just because you have a debilitating mental illness doesn't mean you can't have a sense of humor.

Indeed, Other is Stachel's funny, frank, and brave account of his lifelong struggle with Meredith. Growing up in California, profoundly unsure of himself, he tries on new identities like new pairs of Nikes, carefully evading any association with his Middle Eastern heritage. Even so, Meredith constantly gnaws at him. Discovering acting -- surely the most problematic career choice for someone prone to free-floating fears -- he comes to New York, where he is worn down by the grind of audition for roles, like "Terrorist #2." (Typical audition dialogue: "Inshallah, God is Great! Inshallah, god is Great! I will wed 72 virgins in heaven.") Then comes The Band's Visit and Stachel is poised to make a big career leap. In fact, his troubles are just beginning.

One thing that makes Other stand out among the current rage for autobiographical solo pieces is Stachel's rich appreciation of his illness' absurdities. Many of the most amusing episodes deal with his wildly slippery sense of himself. Cast in a high-school production of Fiddler on the Roof, his R&B spin on "If I Were a Rich Man" leaves the rest of the cast bemused, to say the least. In New York, joining an organization of Middle Eastern, North African, and South Asian actors is, at first, a boon, until his casting in The Band's Visit causes the membership to break down along tribal lines. ("It is the height of irony: an Israeli took an Arab role!" snaps a Lebanese-American actor. "You settle on our land and now you settle on our roles!") Then again, on a vacation in Uganda, he is stunned when the young African woman he is romancing characterizes him as a typical white American. And then there's the anxiety-induced sweating, which raises havoc, with a TV gig; recalling the makeup team swirling around him, he admits, "I became the most expensive delay in Law & Order history!" (Even now, wielding his "emotional-support hankie," one can get fixated watching the drops of sweat falling off him are regular intervals.)

But Stachel doesn't shy away from the darker aspects of his situation, including onstage panic attacks, heavy drinking and Xanax usage, and the many years he spent subtly disowning his father, with his pronounced beard and Middle Eastern accent. (He even skips school graduation ceremonies, so his friends won't discover his father's identity.) As part of his recovery, he must own up to this, in a delicately handled confrontation that provides Other with its most touching sequence.

Director Tony Taccone provides Other with the fast-paced, high-impact production it requires. Afsoon Pajourfar's scenery backs the action with a giant awards envelope, which serves as a surface for Alexander V. Nichols' projections of a Tony Award, mugshots of the 9/11 terrorists, Shaquille O'Neal, and a collage of the abusive texts and tweets Stachel received after posting on Instagram a pro-peace message following the October 7 massacre in Israel. Nichols' lighting, which, interestingly, makes use of a hard followspot on Stachel, is on point throughout. Madeleine Oldham's sound design includes, a jazz combo, the murmur of partygoers, the announcement of Stachel's Tony win, and some Afrobeat sounds for that trip to Uganda.

This is not one of those my-problem-and-how-I-solved-it shows; in truth, Stachel has Meredith cohabiting in his brain, although he has made significant progress and can be said to have reclaimed his life. Still, Other is remarkable for the star's ability to stare, unblinkingly, into his personal abyss. (His wisecracking friends provide crucial help. Confronted by his gay friend Aziz, an inveterate truth-tell, he is told, "Girl...you're already balding, don't be an alcoholic too!") I can imagine that many in the audience, who have struggled similarly, will find tremendous hope in his story. Just about anyone will find it honest and thoroughly gripping. And even in the grip of flop-sweat terror, his charisma cannot be denied. --David Barbour