Here's another one-man show with a celebrity subject -- to wit, rock idol Freddie Mercury, who died of AIDS in 1991 -- looking back on his life as he prepares to enter the pearly gates. Rupert Holmes used this device in "Say Goodnight, Gracie," for one, but there the similarity ends, as the avuncular George Burns is a far cry from the flamboyant Mercury.
Playwright Charles Messina's Mercury is an embittered man, consumed with shame at dying of the terrible plague after a lifetime of deceiving the public about his sexuality. The piece was written in 1997 for actor Paul Goncalves, but Amir Darvish brings an almost Shakespearean theatricality, sardonic humor, and passionate intensity to his interpretation.
The broad strokes of Mercury's life are all here: born in Zanzibar as Farookh Bulsara, boarding school in India, student of graphic design in England, his early marriage, the formation of his band Queen, the devoted lover he felt it essential to conceal. But the 70-minute monologue focuses more on those raw emotions with which Mercury must have wrestled at the end of his life. More biographical detail of a fascinating life would have been welcome, but this is a compelling, well-written narrative as it is. From the moment Mercury ritualistically washes off his AIDS sores and flashbacks to childhood, we're hooked.
Wilson Chin has provided a simple but effective setting, and Dana Sterling's lighting adds variety to the proceedings.
There's no singing here, but Darvish -- under Messina and co-director Jim Bonney's direction -- keeps you riveted throughout. And though he may not be a dead ringer for Mercury, the appearance was convincing enough to elicit a spontaneous "Hello, Freddy" from a fan in the audience right at the start. Darvish sustains the illusion right till the end in bravura fashion.