In the new play by Laura Winters being presented by The New Group, the jokes come fast and furious, a character sings the tender ballad “At Last,” and two people romantically dance to the strains of the song that gives the show its title. That the jokes are delivered via text-to-speech technology, the song is delivered in a strangulated voice devoid of consonants, and the dance is performed by characters in a motorized scooter and motorized wheelchair respectively does nothing to detract from the funny and moving All of Me, but rather only serve to enhance its deeply humanistic qualities.
The play, previously presented at Barrington Stage in 2022, concerns the burgeoning romance between twentysomethings Lucy (Madison Ferris, The Glass Menagerie) and Alfonso (Danny J. Gomez, NCIS: Hawai’i), who meet at the outpatient loading zone of a Schenectady, N.Y., hospital. They’re both waiting for rides, since each is a wheelchair user, and they communicate via TTS, text-to-speech technology, or, as Lucy acerbically describes it, “this fucking Stephen Hawking robot voice.”
[Read Melissa Rose Bernardo’s ★★★★☆ review here.]
That line gives you an idea of the lack of treacly sentimentality in this delicious theatrical rom-com featuring compelling characters and situations. Their respective disabilities serve as no hindrance to the main characters’ charming courtship; rather, it’s class differences and familial complications that prove the biggest obstacles. Alfonso, paralyzed as a baby and with limited motor abilities and no speech capability, is an infectious disease researcher who comes from a privileged background and has just moved to the area from Manhattan with his lawyer mother Elena (Florencia Lozano). Lucy, who first started experiencing a degenerative neurological disease in high school, is a former jazz singer who can still produce sounds with her voice but prefers to mainly use TTS, much to the dismay of her mother Connie (Kyra Sedgwick, excellent in her return to the stage), who works as a manicurist.
Lucy and Alfonso clearly have an immediate attraction to each other and begin dating as young people do. But it isn’t always easy, as demonstrated by Alfonso’s inability to enter Lucy’s home due to its narrow front door which his wheelchair can’t get through. That doesn’t stop them, however, from engaging in some graphic sex talk, even while Connie sleeps a few feet away in the living room.
Things become even more complicated when Lucy, desperate to earn some money, enlists her future brother-in-law Moose (Brian Furey Morabito) in a scheme to sell her medical marijuana as an illegal side hustle, only to have Alfonso’s mother to show up at the house as one of his clients. And when Lucy declines Alfonso’s invitation to move in with him after being together for only four months, he pridefully decides to take a break from the relationship, leading her to take a long-delayed step towards independence from her loving but domineering mother.
Nearly all of Alfonso and Lucy’s dialogue is delivered via artificial speech, which somehow makes the frequent jokes all the funnier thanks to the inherently deadpan, monotone delivery. (You’ll never quite hear the “tomato/tomato” line from the song “Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off” the same way again.) But that doesn’t detract from the superb performances by Ferris and Gomez (both disabled actors), who invest their characterizations with depth and endless amounts of charm. They’re well matched by the rest of the excellent ensemble, which includes Lily Mae Harrington as Jackie, Rose’s older sister who loves her deeply but resents having to subjugate her own needs.
Directed by Ashley Brooke Monroe in a manner that expertly navigates the play’s tightrope-walking balancing act between raucous laughs and poignant emotion, All of Me makes you laugh uproariously one moment and gives you a lump in your throat the next.
All of Me opened May 14, 2024, at Signature Center and runs through June 16. Tickets and information: thenewgroup.org
