‘Wakey, Wakey’ @ Kitchen Dog Theater
Photos by Jordan Fraker/Fraker Photo
—Jan Farrington
“Is it NOW?
I thought I had more time….”
Ten minutes in, I was puzzled—and even a bit disoriented—by Will Eno's Wakey, Wakey at Kitchen Dog Theater.
But as the play moved along, I found a certain clarity developing, as I combined personal memories and experiences with the happenings on the stage. The play was unsettling, unpredictable—but that began to feel right. And I had recognized that I'd been here before, in a room like this one, at a time of life and death—though not, obviously, in the principal role.
It's only a guess, but I'll take odds that Eno, like many of us, has kept company with someone who, in the old phrasing, isn’t long for this world.
Otherwise, it's hard to see how he'd conjure up the weave of randomness and specificity that assembles into the world of Wakey, Wakey, which opened in New York in 2017 and is making its area premiere at KDT, directed by Tina Parker.
Yes, this is a play about Death. And Life. And Time. And Plans. It’s a place inhabited by one man named Guy (Christopher Carlos) for most of the story, and then by a caretaker/nurse named Lisa (Elizabeth Sankarsingh), who, we almost instantly suspect, might have an unusual existence.
Lest I leave you expecting a grim experience, Wakey, Wakey drew some surprised laughs from the audience I was with, plus moments of frozen, almost embarrassed tenderness toward fading-fast Guy, who clutched a stack of index cards as if sure the thoughts he’d jotted down might flutter away. The show was strange, sad, funny, and very human.
Guy shows videos of animals vocalizing, children’s eyes, and more—seldom finding the point of the thing, often getting upset by glitches in the technology. There are interjecting sounds (designer Claire Carson), though Guy is often unsure how or if they connect with his words to us—and sometimes seems to disapprove of them altogether.
Eno’s scripted lines don’t hang together in a nicely linear way—lots of fragments and non-sequiturs—but we always sense Guy’s consciousness in the mix. He is the point, and his physical failing, his loosening grasp on thought and words, is presented with a kind of confused humor and empathy—and sometimes very human anger.
When Time gets short, Lisa hovers around Guy, her hands serenely following the line of his bowed head and shoulders. Sankarsingh is both practical and nurturing, her movements calm and assured, her slightly mysterious half-smile giving us no more than we need to know.
Carlos presents Guy honestly, in all his scattered bits and pieces. He’s in bodily and mental pain, and while Guy doesn’t quite know, quite understand, quite expect…he’s still here somehow. And he seems to like our company, hoping we’ll enjoy his stack of index-card quotes and notes. And the videos too (by Straton Rushing), that in spite of their oddity are funny or intriguing—and clues of a sort, perhaps. It’s a complicated performance with few of the usual guideposts, and Carlos compels us to stick with him.
I think the play’s title (perhaps) is aimed at us, the audience. Wakey, wakey, people. Carpe diem. “I thought I had more time.”
WHEN: February 6-23, 2025
WHERE: 840 Exposition Avenue, Dallas
WEB: kitchendogtheater.org
