Gail Thomas is a poignant storyteller, and her one-woman play is an excellent addition to Rogue Machine’s series of solo shows.
“Picture yourself in a boat on a river
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies
Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly
A girl with kaleidoscope eyes.”
– “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” by John Lennon & Paul McCartney
Performer/playwright Gail Thomas bravely opens herself up in Patient 13, A Dark Comedy Show, a moving, engaging, always entertaining one-woman show that dares delve into taboo topics typically overlooked by romcoms, et al. The storyteller’s autobiographical play recounts how Oklahoma-born Gail relocated to the Big Apple to pursue show biz aspirations. There she encounters and reenacts the usual ups and downs of not only a career in the arts, but the New York City dating scene, as a charter member of J.D. Vance’s “childless cat (I mean dog!) ladies.”
Then Gail’s 90-minute play performed without intermission takes a terrifying turn: Enter the Grim Reaper, stage right. The 40-something is stricken by, and must cope with cancer, as well as the trials and tribulations of our healthcare system. This means facing death, which looms up close and personal. But rather than “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here,” as Dante put it in his Inferno, Gail summons up the courage to fight for her life. Sagely using her SAG health insurance benefits, she makes the rounds of numerous NYC doctors’ offices, seeking a second (and third and fourth and…) opinion.
Without revealing here all that transpires, her cancer treatment leads Gail to an unexpected possibility that empowers her to, as Aldous Huxley wrote, go beyond the doors of perception, when our gal Gail hits the cancer jackpot.
“And the time will come when you see
We’re all one,
And life flows on within
and without you.”
– “Within You Without You,” by George Harrison
Photos of Gail Thomas by David HavertyBingo! Due to her illness, Gail wins the cancer sweepstakes, becoming eligible for a rare form of healing: A completely legal remedy involving the use of psychedelics in order to help lift her out of any disease-related depression. Inspired, filled with awe and curiosity, Gail eagerly agrees to undergo a carefully guided trip conducted by trained medical professionals (paging Timothy Leary!), and takes the substance that is, in normal circumstances, against the law to ingest. Cue the sitar music!
“One pill makes you larger
And one pill makes you small…
“When the men on the chessboard
Get up and tell you where to go
And you’ve just had some kind of mushroom
And your mind is moving low
Go ask Alice [Gail]
I think she’ll know…
“Remember what the dormouse said
Feed your head
Feed your head.”
– “White Rabbit,” by Grace Slick
The psychedelic substance has an enormous impact upon Gail, as she attains something akin to what has been called “Cosmic Consciousness.” Gail becomes the most enlightened “Oakie” since Preacher Casy rhapsodized: “Maybe a man doesn’t have a soul of his own but is part of one big soul” in John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath, about another kind of Depression.
With her profound, deeper understanding of the interconnectedness of all things, a cloud (mushroom cloud?) is lifted off of Gail’s all-too-human shoulders, as she proceeds to go about living with a renewed zest for life. Which, luckily for we Angelenos, includes her relocating from Brooklyn to the City of the Angels.
Patient 13 is engagingly performed throughout by Gail Thomas, who maintains eye contact and – befitting her heightened sense of awareness – connection to the 31 audience members in the thrust stage format of the Matrix Theatre’s ultra-intimate Henry Murray Stage Director. Dan Oliverio’s mise-en-scène has Gail constantly (although never frenetically) moving around the space, so that although this is a solo show, the production never becomes boring to look at.
During Gail’s substance-induced transcendental excursion beyond, as Slick sang, “logic and proportion,” Rachel Ann Manheimer’s lights convincingly evoke a psychedelic experience. Even if there’s no accompanying sitar music (alas!) or, if I recall correctly, strobe lights per se, the sequence is visually conveyed memorably, as well as artistically acted, as is the rest of this play.
Patient 13 takes tragedy and turns lemons into lemonade on a cosmic scale. In more unenlightened hands, it could have been a pity party, but instead this production is more likely to inspire Cheshire Cat grins. The girl with kaleidoscope eyes, Gail Thomas is a poignant storyteller, and her one-woman play is an excellent addition to Rogue Machine’s series of solo shows, most of them being produced by Jennifer Sorenson. Gail is a SLAM winner at The Moth and coaches this art form at PracticalStorytelling.com. Her work seems like a natural show for L.A. Women’s Theatre Festival, which specializes in one-person shows by the female of the species. Patient 13 is especially recommended for viewers confronting health and other hardships, because of its nitty gritty realism and ultimately uplifting vibe. It’s does a “Goo goo g’ joob” good job.
“I am he
As you are he
As you are me
And we are all together.”
– “I am the Walrus,” by John Lennon.
Rogue Machine presents Patient 13 at 8:00 p.m. on Fridays, 3:00 p.m. on Saturdays and 1:00 p.m. on Sundays through September 1 at the Matrix Theatre upstairs in The Henry Murray Stage, 7657 Melrose Avenue, L.A., California, 90048. For reservations call (855)585-5185 or see Rogue Machine Theatre.
Aloha oe Gena Rowlands, farewell to thee, one of the greats.
