BY DAN VALENTI

PLANET VALENTI NEWS AND COMMENTARY / THE ARTS

WHAT: Out of Character, Berkshire Theatre Group, written and performed by Ariel Stachel

WHERE: The Unicorn Theater, Stockbridge, MA

WHEN: Through July 26

(FORTRESS OF SOLITUDE, THE WEEKEND EDITION JULY 11-3, 2025) — Who are you?

That’s the question Ari’el Stachel confronts in this bravado, one-man launch into the non-negotiable inner regions of Identify and Self, those aching aspects of personhood most of us will not visit. Statchel, though, embarks on the quest, wrestling not with an angel but with himself in confessional spasms of pain, parody, puzzlement, and humorous self-deprecation. He laughs so as not to cry until the hysterics become cleansing tears. 

To borrow from Lowell (“The Vision of Sir Launfal”), Stachel “builds a bridge from Dreamland for his lay.”

For me, the perilousness of one-person shows is that, unless it’s Hal Holbrook portraying Mark Twain–that is, a great actor portraying a great life–such productions can easily comes off as self-indulgent solipsism. Is there any other kind. I’ve seen too many that are “so what?”, where you want to ask, “So what the hell makes you think we give two spits.” One that comes to mind (no names or places) some guy droning for an hour-and-a-half talking about his reaction to 9/11. Boring.

Stachel, however, doesn’t portray a world-historical individual. Not Einstein, Twain, or Taylor Swift. He does one better. He plays him Self.

Lemons into Lemonade

In this uncommon, imposing play, Ari briskly peels back his layers of insecurity, debilitating anxiety, and panic attacks that manifest as OCD and uncontrollable torrents of facial sweat. Quite a handicap for an actor.

He metaphorically resembles a kid on a hot day with a lemonade stand, 10 cents a Dixie cup—but no one stops by. He’s alone with his product, and, having precious few options, begins to drink his own Kool-Aid. Yeah, he’s switched drinks from self loathing to self exploration. He mines the cliched dross to get at the private, idiosyncratic gold

You’d figure a young actor (age 34) would bet set after winning the 2018 Tony (“Best Featured Actor in a Musical” for The Band’s Visit) and going from anonymity in fruitless auditions to “in demand” for stage, movie, and TV roles. 

You’d figure. 

And you would be right.

And you would be wrong.

At the same time. 

Born and raised in Berkeley, Calif., this sensitive, soulful, hybrid lad experienced shame and dread, to say nothing of rear and loathing, over his heritage. Was he Yemeni? Jewish? Arabic? Middle Eastern? White?American? All? None? Some? Stachel’s internal quest for authentic persona becomes the fuel stock for Statchel’s romp, equal parts cavort, caper, comedy, catastrophe, and cataclysm.

This 75-minute drink quenches the audience’s thirst, a polydipsia that springs from our vicarious need to hear from and learn about the secrets that others hide. Gossipers can relate. The liquid metaphors fit, because watching this staggeringly energetic performance feels like a shower. By the end, you have briefly joined Statchel in having come clean. 

Black Magic

You are Ari’el. Your father, the son of Yemeni immigrants born and raised in Israel, and your mother, an Ashkenazi Jew from New York City, divorce in your childhood. You’re in 5th grade when Middle East terrorists go to work on Sept. 11, 2001. You could pass for magician David Blaine’s double. You look “too Arabic.” You get bullied and teased, so you shed your persona and “become” black. Naturally, you develop your hoop skills. You engage in a kind of “black magic” beyond the ability of most (ahem) “normal” folks, let alone Blaine.

Stachel alienates himself from his father, embarrassed by his patrimony, and aborts his birthright. He goes from “black” to posing as “white,” a discoloration confirmed when he visits Uganda. His black girlfriend confirms the alabaster delusion. Along the Great White Way, the actor looks to hide his pain by drowning himself in booze, drugs, and sex. Futile, of course. 

Ari shares the reason for becoming an actor, a common tale for those who trod the boards, with each version new in the telling. Categorically, acting allows one to “play” other characters. Actors can safely hide from themselves, with social approval, and, for professionals, get paid for doing do.

The BTG press release boasts of the play’s “universality.” It’s a well chosen word. How many of us “play” a role as part of our public face, that outer layer of the three lives all of us live. Every hand should be raised to serve honesty. The first life we wear in public, those selfie smiles, those artificial projections required of us in the workplace, in culture, and in other shared spaces that require fake versions of ourselves.

The second life, our private one, we share only with intimates—family and friends who see more of who we are. The resultant familiarity often becomes a personal minefield in the manner of Stachel’s rejection of his father.

Finally, we come to the third life, our personal life. That’s the one we live when no one else is around. That remains hidden and sacred … it’s prayer, if we can define it as “what you do when you are alone.” Watching Out of Character led me to wonder how much of his personal afflictions still torment Statchel. It’s the one performance we shall never see.

Pantomime Paper Towels

Stachel, with the help of director Tony Taccone and Madelaine Oldham (dramaturg, sound designer), takes a stab at revealing all three of his lives. He begins with reliving his Tony Award, the apex of his career but one that induces a panic attack he tries to fight in the bathroom. Who cannot love the sound of those unseeable paper towels coming from an invisible dispenser as Stachel pulls out the pantomime sheets? Those paper towels remind me of the malignant layers of personality Ari has to courage to prod, poke, and peel.

For me, these invisible facewipes suggest the actor’s attempts to control the manifestations of his inner turmoil. Unfortunately, Rx-ing public symptoms can’t touch underlying personal causes. Mopping the brow of dripping perspiration cannot stop cold sweats to come. 

Stachel’s private life comes to us primarily via his love-hate-love relationship with his father. After disowning his dad, Ari finally comes to terms with his lineage after finding award-winning success with the role of Haled in the Broadway smash hit The Band’s Visit. Haled, the ladies man of an Israeli police orchestra that’s come to Egypt for a performance, not only changes Stachel’s professional standing but transforms, over time, his inability to be himself.

To “be one’s Self,” of course, comes only after one finds one’s Self—or what’s a one-man play for? 

THE PLANET’s rating (out of 5 stars): * * * * * (five stars!)

Folks, three words: GO SEE IT!

Have a great weekend, everybody.

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“Should we say that the self, once perceived, becomes the soul?” — Theodore Roethke.

“OPEN THE WINDOW, AUNT MILLIE.”

LOVE TO ALL.

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