The solo show (and a reminder of our next Book Club book)

REMINDER: Monday, February 3, as part of our Book Club, we're discussing Will Eno's 2005 play Thom Pain (based on nothing). Below are my thoughts on monologues/solo storytelling.

I went to see a play last weekend called EDWARD. It was written and performed by playwright Ed Schmidt. Each performance takes place in an apartment somewhere in New York. I don’t mean that the show is in a theater and the theater has an apartment set. I mean that Ed literally performs in different people’s apartments around town. 

Only 12 people get to see this show each night. We all sit around the dining room table, upon which sit 27 objects. Banal, esotetic things like a pair of glasses, a Vote Nader button, a photo of a girl, a jigsaw puzzle, a car owner’s manual.

Ed then directs an audience member to pick and item and then he tells a 3-5 minute story about how that item relates to the titular man “Edward.” One by one we go through the objects and the stories, and what ensues is a history of a life told without chronology, without classic narrative structure, and without a true backstory.

It was incredibly beautiful. Not only in the way Ed Schmidt performed in such an intimate environment. He’s a gifted storyteller. But it was beautiful in the way it confronted the audience. It forced us to pay attention, to piece details together, because they were out of order. And above all, it skirts a pencil-thin line of truth and fiction.

By the end, I was convinced the now-deceased character “Edward” was the father of the writer/performer Ed Schmidt. But this was only based on two pieces of evidence: 1) “Edward” had a son named Eddie; and 2) Ed Schmidt performed the show with such vulnerability, such familiarity. But, 1 could be a coincidence (or an intentional misdirect, and 2 could just be great acting.

As a theater-maker, I’m a huge proponent of confrontation. This doesn’t have to be political, though it certainly can. I would argue, though, that there’s a good chance your political challenge might not be far off from your audiences. 

What I mean by confrontation, is that you force the audience to do some intellectual and emotional labor. The play EDWARD is about a man. The story is funny, sad, and interesting, like any drama should be. But it also makes the audience uncomfortable for these reason:

• Extreme intimacy - this man is right upon us telling us a story. 

• Nonfiction is nebulous - by the end we realize that even if this play is a true story, it’s veracity is instantly in question because of the limited amount of information.  

• Finally, EDWARD’s moral conclusion is that the stories of our lives are only in the junk we leave behind. Life is short, and death is even shorter than. And that’s fucking harrowing. It’s upsetting. 

I bring this play up because we’re talking about Will Eno’s play THOM PAIN (BASED ON NOTHING) for our book club next week. THOM PAIN is telling a far different, far less grounded story than EDWARD. But THOM PAIN is confrontational. It questions actor-audience relationships. It questions truth and who gets to tell stories. Underneath, there’s something real, something emotional, something human. But you, the audience member, are in charge of discovering what that is. And you probably won’t be satisfied.

It’s not for everyone, but I fucking love it. Can’t get enough of this kind of storytelling. And I think it’ll be obvious to all those here who read THOM PAIN just how much an influence this play was on the creation of Welcome to Night Vale. The unreliable narrator, the obfuscation of information, the editorializing, the poetry, etc. 

I hope you enjoy. Talk to you all on Monday!

-jeffrey cranor
january 31, 2025