Dark Dating Stories on View at the Public Theater
The press release for Ryan J. Haddad’s DARK DISABLED STORIES describes a “series of unforgiving vignettes” about his life with cerebral palsy, which probe "implicit ableism and the assumptions we make about people we’ll never really know.”
After seeing the piece this week, I think that’s partially true. The script is an unforgiving account of people we’ll never really know — specifically the ones we meet on Grindr. However, DARK DISABLED STORIES is only marginally about disability.
Instead of approaching access as an afterthought, the creative team has attempted to imagine a new standard in American theater. In the small foyer is a movement space complete with a sensory board covered in textured fabrics. On a piece of paper on our seats, we are encouraged to “react as you need, make sounds, and move around in ways that feel comfortable to your bodies.”
As the house lights dim, a Describer in a power wheelchair played by Alejandra Ospina begins to detail our surroundings. Words are projected on the back wall, mirroring what she and others will say. “The set is a long shallow box raised 16 inches above the floor. Rectangular in shape and light pink. Very, Very pink: Benjamin Moore’s Island Sunset pink,” she says. “Above the pink rectangular box is a large header…in Island Sunset pink the title of the show DARK DISABLED STORIES is spelled out in pillow-like bubble letters.”
Deaf actor Dickie Hearts enters, and begins to communicate in American Sign Language. Soon, he’s joined by Ryan J. Haddad, himself a performer with cerebral palsy. Each performance — not specific special performances, but all of them — includes artistic sign language performance, audio-description and open captioning. The Public has specially expanded wheelchair and mobility access for this show.
Seeing so many barriers removed for disabled theatergoers and makers raises important questions for non-disabled patrons. How might this performance expand our vision for accessibility in the theater moving forward? How might modern technology assist in making these methods of accessibility more ubiquitous? What sort of new responsibility do able-bodied people carry?
“We have landed on an expression of access that is integrated and smooth, but also transparent and present and loud,” wrote access dramaturg Alison Kopit in the playbill. “Access is not an add-on to the show — it is the show.”
While Kopit is right technically speaking, DARK DISABLED STORIES’ content misses the mark. Many uncomfortable situations that unfold in Haddad’s piece are not specific to the disabled community, but to modern dating practices.
I found myself biting my tongue to keep from yelling out from the audience. Dickie! Don’t let the kinky cop use the real handcuffs! You communicate with your hands! And yes, you need a safe word, even if he says you don’t! No, Ryan! Don’t let the high school teacher take you into the bathroom at the bar! Don’t go up to the toothless man’s apartment on the first date! At least tell your friends where you are!
Those particular vignettes often begin with the phrase “I was horny” and end by conflating discomfort due to immutable characteristics with that caused by bad decision-making.
Personally, I think the show deserves a name change. DARK DATING STORIES gets my vote.
From February, 2023. Image: Joan Marcus