Before launching into the funny, sweet, sad, slight, sometimes sexually graphic story of his first love, the author and performer of this one-man show introduces himself in telling and trademark ways. “I’m Ryan J. Haddad. For those of you who don’t know me, I don’t know how you ended up here,” he says, in what could be modesty, or could be the opposite, but in either case charms the audience and gets a laugh. Then he takes some time to describe himself visually “for our blind and low vision audience members,” including the pink sequined blazer that he used to make a fabulous entrance, and his grey New Balance sneakers; “they’re not a sponsor, but they should be! They’re the only shoes that fit over my leg braces.” He also describes his walker. Everything he says is also projected in captions above the stage.
Haddad, a gay man in his thirties with cerebral palsy, is a pioneer in fully integrating access into theater productions in a way that makes sense dramatically. He did this two years ago with his multi-performer play “Dark, Disabled Stories.,” which set the gold standard. And he does it again by himself in “Hold Me in the Water.” Disability, after all, is an intrinsic part of his life – and, as it turns out, inextricably tied to the story of his first love.
They meet at an out-of-town artist’s residency. When, in their first interaction, the man helps Ryan into an inaccessible bookstore, “his grip was firm…No mishap. The trust between our bodies—my hand, his hand—was magnetic and instinctual.” Their next encounter is at the beach – and gives the show its title. “He made me feel safe. He made the beach, the lake, accessible to me. “
Ryan tells us that this ability to help a disabled person without fumbling or hesitation is such a rare and cherished quality that someone coined a name for it – access intimacy.
So the man was hot, but he was also kind (and “talented and dreamy and sexy.”) And he seemed interested in Ryan, but Ryan wasn’t sure.
Over the 70 minutes of the show, Ryan details the four months of their interactions like a diligent diarist (“I ran my fingers through his hair, and he kissed me for the first time on August 7th. On August 11th, we went on our first official date…”), interlaced with accounts of his own swings in emotion – excitement, uncertainty, despair — and his heart-to-hearts with friends and family about the man. Haddad is an evocative and effortlessly droll raconteur, with an ability to share (some would say overshare) sexual moments and his vulnerable feelings in a way that feels inviting and nearly cheerful.
But he has been promoting “Hold Me in the Water” as a “poignant romantic comedy.” On its face, a romantic comedy is challenging to achieve with just one performer on stage, and Haddad doesn’t even seem interested in giving his crush anything resembling an independent identity. The man is not even given a name, nor any other specific details that would make him something besides just the object of Ryan’s desire. Perhaps the playwright is trying to protect the real man’s privacy. But the one-sided account makes the romance feel shallow at best and Ryan less than self-aware. “How much did Ryan get to know the actual person?” I wondered — way before Ryan recounts the man telling him “you don’t even really know me.”
Hold Me in the Water
Playwrights Horizons through May 4
Running time: 70 minutes with no intermission
Tickets: $62.50 – $102.50
Written and performed by Ryan J. Haddad
Directed by Danny Sharron
Scenic design by dots, costume design by Beth Goldenberg, lighting design by Cha See, sound design by Tosin Olufolabi, access dramaturg Alison Kopit/ Alyssa K. Howard is the Production Stage Manager.
