In the nearly two decades since Anna Deavere Smith created and performed “Fires in the Mirror” (about the Crown Heights riots of 1991) and “Twilight: Los Angeles” (about the LA riots of 1992), her MO has become a whole subgenre of theater. The problem is, most proponents of the interview-based documentary drama Smith pioneered have given it a bad name — they lack her gift for transforming fact into art.
It’s good to have Smith herself back, especially with a show as thoughtful and vibrant as “Let Me Down Easy.”
Whereas her previous pieces focused on specific events, “Let Me Down Easy” is built around an amorphous concept. Smith says it deals with health care, but you won’t hear about pre-existing conditions or public options. Instead, she tackles her topic in the most literal sense: health and care.
Impersonating with uncanny precision 20 real people — their lines are taken verbatim from interviews she conducted — the author/performer explores the connection between body, mind, character and soul.
Some of the subjects, such as Lance Armstrong, are highly aware of their bodies’ power. On the other hand, the late film critic Joel Siegel is betrayed by his, and he uses gallows humor to hide the fear his cancer provokes. Also deceased, former Texas governor Ann Richards says, “A lot of what I feel is in my brain,” but listening to patients, you realize willpower takes you only so far.
And when physicians, hospital administrators and even a musicologist testify about the social and cultural forces that frame our experience of illness and death, it’s hard not to feel overwhelmed.
Tracing a graceful — and, at 95 minutes, nimble — arc from lighthearted and funny to downright philosophical, Smith creates the mosaic portrait of an America disconnected from the cycle of life and unwilling to face death as natural and inevitable.
At the same time, the show, elegantly directed by Leonard Foglia, subtly suggests that we all leave traces of our presence: The props
Smith uses to flesh out her portrayals remain visible after she’s done with them. By the end of the show, the stage is strewn with jackets, hats, glasses, a breakfast tray — as if to say, “It’s not so bad. Memories linger.”