As someone with his fair share of anxiety and has been in a relationship with someone with a similar condition, Ari’el Stachel’s Out of Character (world premiere through July 30 at the Berkeley Rep) seemed to speak to me directly. The 80-min solo show about its author-star’s journey through racism and mental health hit me in more ways than one. I had the very feeling of being seen that Stachel speaks of striving for his entire life.
That didn’t negate the anxiety I had while watching the show. After three and three-quarter years of awkwardly navigating COVID in public, I’ve gotten used to things like the handful of people who refused to mask in this opening night audience. I can even sort of appreciate Stachel’s joke near the end, telling us: “So, the pandemic ended… kinda? You’re all still wearing masks?” But what irked me was trying to make my way out of the theater through many unmasked patrons.
An old white man in front of me cast his aside like heavy work equipment after a long day. One of his companions raved “We won’t need these things next season!,” as that’s when the Rep will limit masking to only two days-per-week; this as the very-not-over pandemic continues to average 1,000 deaths-per-week and doom thousands more with Long COVID. So, yeah, watching a show about anxiety exacerbated my anxiety.
Which is a shame, because the Tony-winning actor (directed by former Rep AD Tony Taccone) makes a fine raconteur in describing both his personal and private struggles. Diagnosed with OCD at age 5, he names his condition “Meredith” (after the villain in The Parent Trap) and struggles to free himself of the hold she has over him—illustrated by the distorted, disembodied voice calling out to him throughout the show. If that weren’t enough, this Jewish son of a Ashkenazi American mother and Yemeni-Israeli father spends much of his upper-middle-class Bay Area upbringing trying to fit into cultural identities that aren’t his own. It mostly begins when all the white kids at his Jewish private school repeatedly insisting he’s “too dark to be Jewish.”
Like many budding young talents, he finds solace in his ability to entertain others; namely, by doing a broad impression of his father. Reductive, maybe, but it gets the youngster some positive feedback for once. Then a certain September morning turns the entire country against Middle Easterners. The anxiety-prone youth is suddenly stuck in a world of pronounced dangers and open racism.
So, he transfers schools (a lot) and adopts other identities: a white sk8er bro; a “light-skinned” Black basketball player—anything that he can use as an excuse to tell people he isn’t Middle Eastern.
Odd as it may seem, I appreciated Stachel’s recognition of the fact that neither racism nor his diagnosis ever “end.” Oh sure, he follows the usual solo show convention that calls for ending on a positive note, but that note is about how he’s personally coped with both conditions—not claiming either of them has been solved like some sort of jigsaw puzzle.
A hilarious sequence has him relaying to us some of his personal tricks for hiding the compulsive sweating “Meredith” brings about, from running in late to every meeting to always being near spicy food in restaurants. He’s equally open about sharing his failed Botox procedure, which, to put it lightly, did not put an end to his sweats.
Similarly entertaining and revealing is his journey through racism, which sees him seemingly finding a home with a Black friend and his family (Stachel frequently quotes the friend’s repeated use of the word “nigga,” but never mentions using it himself as a youth) before following the acting bug to NYU, where he starts a collective with fellow Middle Eastern talent. It’s that group’s protest of early casting for The Band’s Visit which will eventually land Stachel a role in the hit musical, and a subsequent Tony award. But even then, a child of Yemeni and Israeli parents is chastised for playing an Egyptian character. Racism and cultural appropriation aren’t problems that will be solved overnight.
Nor is Stachel’s anxiety, which sees him coping via substance abuse and denying his father’s existence to his shallow friends. Out of Character—staged in the Peet’s Theatre on a beautiful geometric stage by Afsoon Pajoufar (lit by Alexander Nichols and featuring several hidden compartments)—isn’t about getting definitive answers so much as constantly being the one to whom everyone asks questions; the most frequent being “What are you?”
Watching the show on opening night, I was glad to see that my own anxiety was (partially) relieved by the majority of folks wearing masks, and the Rep’s top-notch HVAC system keeping Aranet4’s CO² readings at ~830ppm for the entire run time.
Stachel’s story isn’t unique, in the sense that many PoC (myself included) have spent our lives living similar tales. Still, it is uniquely Ari’el Stachel, something the actor himself says he had to learn to appreciate because it didn’t come naturally for him. He ends the show reminding us that not only does his anxiety journey continue, but that “Meredith” may make an appearance during post-show meets with the audience. Even if the journey isn’t over, he and Taccone’s portrayal of that journey makes the entire trip worth watching.
OUT OF CHARACTER world premiere through July 30th on the Peet’s Theater stage at the Berkeley Rep. Tickets and further info here.
