A Veteran's Life Disintegrates in “Nightingale”

Peter Snowden is in a growing sweat. He talks to himself. He talks to a menacing red light that shines down on him. He talks on the phone–repeatedly and loudly. Occasionally. he stops his frantic pacing to talk directly to audience members.

So begins “Nightingale,” the mostly one-man play adapted by Frederick Mensch from his 2015 HBO film of the same name, which just completed an energetic and touching run at the Atwater Village Theatre.

Eventually, in Peter’s rapid-fire monologue, we learn that he’s an Army veteran, that he works as a grocery bagger in a local market, that his father died long ago, and that he still lives at home in Chicago with his mother, squabbling with her apparently since the beginning of time.

We also learn that something life-changing has just happened, that Peter has done something momentous that is gradually loosening his grip on reality.

In a riveting performance by Lance A.Williams, Peter is also fixated on arranging a reunion with an old Army buddy, who doggedly ignores Peter’s repeated phone calls. What has Peter done to offend his old Army buddy and his wife? And does his emotional disintegration have something to do with PTSD from his Army days.

Director Brandon Mendez Homer makes marvelous use of the small Atwater Village stage, with audience members on opposite sides and Peter’s upholstered chairs placed in the audience, as if Peter is one of us and not just someone whose disintegration we are witnessing.

Disjointed videos displayed against the single room’s one wall provide an inkling of what has gone on to drive Peter to the state he is in. In time, all our questions are answered as we learn what Peter has done and why it is driving him crazy.

In effect in this marvelous bit of theatre, Peter is asking, indeed begging, for our understanding if not our forgiveness–an understanding and forgiveness he cannot grant himself.

Nightingale was performed at the Atwater Village Theatre, 3269 Casitas Avenue, through November 17.