SICKENINGLY FUNNY
Noah Diaz’s You Will Get Sick, which opened last night at Steppenwolf, is an odd bird of a play. It begins with an irresistible premise: a middle-aged woman, Callan, responds to a flyer promising “$40 $20″ to anyone who will receive a phone call from a stranger; the only requirement being that she listen to what he has to say.
Amy Morton and Namir Smallwood
This first phone call opens the 85-minute one-act with the two characters at opposite ends of Andrew Boyce‘s stark grey set, which has a backdrop of canted lines with ominous-looking shadows of birds perched on some of them. After some extensive haggling over the price with our unnamed protagonist (#1), a man in his early thirties, Callan listens to him tell her his secret: he is very sick, will get worse, and cannot admit this out loud to anyone he knows, including himself.
And then things get wonderfully weird. More on that later.
Namir Smallwood and Amy Morton
This opening beautifully sets the tone of what follows: Every exchange between Callan and #1 is transactional before it moves into the emotional, yet the relationship that develops between the two is no less genuine. Diaz nicely subverts the trope of the vibrant young person looking after the dying senior. Callan, who we find is an actor of extremely limited talent, is old enough to be #1’s mother, but in affect, energy, and emotional maturity, she is more like the child in the relationship. It’s a tricky part requiring rapid-fire pivots in tone, but Amy Morton, an actor of considerable talent, threads the needle here, creating a rich layered character, confident in herself, even if no one else is.
Namir Smallwood
Adding to the difficulty of the part of #1 is that, by design, the character is much harder to define (Diaz doesn’t even grace him with a name). He yields very little and Smallwood’s performance is calibrated with the same interiority. We get hints as to why he behaves the way he does but throughout the play, the character is locked up tight, only loosening slightly towards the end. We know marginally more about him when the curtain drops than we did when it rose. This might be more realistic but it makes for a frustratingly passive and inert protagonist with whom it’s easy to sympathize but difficult to empathize.
Amy Morton, Sadieh Rifai and Namir Smallwood
All of this sounds very bleak but the play is anything but. After the first scene, we traipse into a surreal world where giant birds kidnap people in wheel chairs and skeevy salesmen sell bird insurance. A Wizard of Oz motif runs through the show and we are treated to multiple, hilariously awful renditions of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” There’s a too-easy send up of acting workshops that nevertheless had me howling along with the audience… and there’s much more.
Cliff Chamberlain, Sadieh Rifai, Amy Morton and Namir Smallwood
Special mention must be made of Cliff Chamberlain and Sadieh Rifai who play all but one of the supporting parts. With #1 bringing down all his scenes with Callan (not a criticism), it falls to them to supply the energy to the proceedings and they do so in spades. Chamberlain, in particular, is an absolute delight, stealing the show almost every time he walks onto the stage.
Namir Smallwood, Amy Morton and Cliff Chamberlain with (back) Sadieh Rifai
Directed by Audrey Francis, You Will Get Sick is a very funny play about a very unfunny subject. While walking home from the theatre I wondered if it was actually too funny; whether what would be remembered in the aftermath were the jokes and stagecraft and not the pain and misery of its protagonist, but maybe I’m being unfair. #1 stuck with me, so who’s to say he wouldn’t with everyone else.
Cliff Chamberlain and Namir Smallwood
photos by Michael Brosilow
You Will Get Sick
Steppenwolf Theatre Company
Downstairs Theatre, 1650 N. Halsted St.
85 minutes, no intermission
ends on July 13, 2025 extended to July 20, 2025
Tues-Fri at 7:30; Sat at 3 & 7:30; Sun at 3; Wed at 2 (March 5)
for tickets ($20–$136.50), call 312.335.1650 or visit Steppenwolf
for more shows, visit Theatre in Chicago