When film director Ben (Hamish Linklater) gets punched in The Disappear, there’s an audible gasp in the Minetta Lane Theatre. The minor act of violence—he gets socked in the eye by dashing movie star Raf Night (Kelvin Harrison Jr.)—is entirely justified under the circumstances. What’s surprising is that Ben is punched only once. By intermission, I wanted to clock him no fewer than five times.
[Read Frank Scheck’s ★★★☆☆ review here.]
Ben is successful, talented, and, by all appearances, exhausted by the burden of his own genius. “I have no head for trivial things,” he tells his wife, Mira (Tony-winner Miriam Silverman, in top form). “And you are so very good at them darling.” Never mind that Mira is a renowned novelist; she must contend with “trivial” things such as shopping, cooking, and care of their 16-year-old daughter, Dolly (Anna Mirodin). Later, Mira reflects on the double standard of the situation: “I’m a writer — a successfully published — if not world famous — award-winning, best-selling writer. I’ve written 17 novels. And yet, in my home, in my marriage, in my day-to-day LIFE, I ALWAYS give over to my husband.”
When his producer, Michael (the always terrific Dylan Baker), refuses to sign off on a casting choice — beautiful young actress Julie Wells (The Handmaid’s Tale star Madeline Brewer, fresh off a dynamite New York stage debut as Audrey in Little Shop of Horrors) — he throws an actual tantrum. “It’s MY horror film. My work. My leading lady. My choice. My Mirabella. Mine! Mine! Mine!” He might as well be a toddler yelling about his toys. Not coincidentally, at one point he refers to Julie as “a perfect perfect doll.”
It’s easy to see why Ben is obsessed with Julie. She looks like something straight out of a Jane Austen novel, unironically wearing a straw bonnet and corset. (“Dressing’s an event,” she explains to Mira. “I don’t want to waste a minute when someone looks at me—I want to BE the fantasy.”) Lapsing in and out of a British accent, she charms Ben by quoting Virgil and Shakespeare and dropping a reference to Mary Sidney. Then she skips out and leaves him agog, like one of those cartoon characters with swirly eyes.
He makes a pitiful attempt to villainize Mira: “You’re killing me. You’re killing my heart with your mild distain. Your benign neglect. Your martyr-patience with my mid-life whatever. YOU are killing me.” But he gets his comeuppance from Raf Night—not only the aforementioned hit, but Night’s obvious admiration for and attraction to Mira. A legit massive movie star, Night agrees to make a movie with Ben “IF and ONLY if Mira writes it.”
Two unhappily married artists, forced—for the sake of cinema!—to work together? It’s a delightful premise, and Erica Schmidt—whose previous plays include 2023’s Lucy, also at the Minetta Lane, and 2019’s Mac Beth, a super-smart all-female teenage twist on the tragedy—has some fun with it. She’s extremely lucky to have Linklater, who has a way of bringing off intense, difficult characters (see: his aspiring author in Seminar); the fact that his narcissistic, ego-driven Ben doesn’t totally alienate the audience is a minor miracle. Post-intermission, the playwright, who also directs the Audible production, packs a lot of plot into a few scenes, and moves the spotlight off Ben for a bit. And as exasperating as he is, The Disappear languishes when he disappears.
The Disappear opened Jan. 15, 2026, at the Audible’s Minetta Lane Theatre and runs through Feb. 22. Tickets and information: audiblexminetta.com
