Sean Hayes sheds his familiar theatrical bravura in “The Unknown,” a short, polished, and curiously slight new solo play by David Cale at Off-Broadway’s Studio Seaview. The 75-minute thriller opens with an intriguing premise and a knowingly metatheatrical sensibility, intermittently drawing you in — but it never develops enough to justify its abstract title or conceptual ambitions.
Elliott, a middle-aged playwright stalled by writer’s block, retreats to a remote farmhouse owned by friends. On his first night there, he is awakened by a male voice outside singing “I Wish You’d Wanted Me,” a song he wrote years earlier for a musical. The intrusion unsettles less through noise than through intimacy: his own melody has been turned into something invasive.
Back in Manhattan, Elliott comes to believe he has a stalker. The song’s lyrics appear taped to his mailbox. A flirtatious Texan enters the picture at Julius, the historic Village gay bar. A twin brother surfaces — perhaps sympathetic, perhaps manipulative. Elliott drinks more. Boundaries blur. After a drug-fueled spiral, he lands in the hospital.
From his claim of being followed, the mystery widens. But the more intriguing question becomes not simply whether Elliott is being stalked, but who, exactly, is doing the following — and from what vantage point. Is it a rejected actor nursing a grievance? An identical twin with shifting motives? A projection of Elliott’s own loneliness? Or something more overtly theatrical: a character seizing control of the narrative itself?
The play keeps these possibilities in motion, and for a stretch it has real pull. There are moments when Cale’s writing is sharp and dryly funny, particularly in the early barroom encounters and in Elliott’s uneasy recognition that he may be shaping his ordeal into material. But instead of escalating, the play accumulates. New complications arrive without raising the stakes, and extended passages rely on narration rather than dramatized conflict. At just 75 minutes, the piece is undeniably brief — yet it can still feel padded. Certain sections stall, and the tension flattens rather than tightens.
Director Leigh Silverman’s staging helps sustain atmosphere where the script thins out. The design is spare and controlled: a red curtain, open space, sculpted shadows. The minimalism gives the piece a sleek, noir-like frame that the writing doesn’t always fill.
At the center is Hayes, whose performance builds upon the dramatic control he displayed in “Good Night, Oscar.” That earlier role revealed a performer capable of tension and volatility beneath the wit. Here, the volatility is largely removed. What remains is something quieter and, in its way, more exposed.
Hayes has long been associated with comic velocity and theatrical flourish. In “The Unknown,” he deliberately sets that aside. There is no comic armor, no wink to the audience. His Elliott is anxious, financially uneasy, and increasingly isolated. Without costume changes, Hayes shifts among multiple characters — the protective Larry, the perceptive Chloe, the smooth twin Jack, the volatile Joey — with economical clarity.
Most impressively, he sustains engagement even during the play’s quieter, more inert stretches. When the narrative momentum stalls, his performance supplies an undercurrent of tension the script sometimes lacks. The drama ultimately resides less in the thriller mechanics than in watching Elliott try to determine whether he is living his story or merely staging it.
The mystery thins out. Hayes holds firm.
Through April 12 at Studio Seaview, 305 W. 43rd St., studioseaview.com.
