As a gay movie and theatre obsessive, I’m not sure any recent show I’ve seen has quite checked all my boxes like Good Time Charlie. This autobiographical deep dive from playwright and lead star Ryan J. Haddad comes from a specifically queer perspective, one fully grounded in the reality of a young male living with cerebral palsy. But Haddad’s disability and his sexual orientation are only a part of his story. What impresses the most here is Haddad’s ability to parallel his coming out saga against that of his uncle. Blending family drama with authenticity through a lens of meta subtext, Good Time Charlie feels raw and poignant in a way few plays are ever able to accomplish.

From the very beginning, Ryan comes out to let the audience know we will be experiencing his version of events. This story takes root in Ryan and his family, and the way he embraced theater from a very young age. Each character plays a part in his own story, and in this case, rather than choosing to focus on his immediate family, such as his brothers or his parents, Ryan mainly centers on his Uncle Charlie and his relationship with that portion of the family. Though his parents do come into the picture, the two act play largely focuses on the parallels between coming out in the 2000s versus coming out in the 80s. There could not be a greater divide.

Playing his Uncle Charlie, Jonathan Raviv not only has a great voice, but can embody the bubbly gay uncle we all wish we had. His partner, Lou (Will and Grace star Tim Bagley), acts as a stellar supporting character throughout, offering sage advice, and being a grounding force. The strongest standout in Ryan’s inner circle, other than Ryan himself, and his self-deprecating, outsider energy, is Lou’s best friend Sheldon (Michael Cristofer). Sheldon runs a theater and shows old movies, and is very fluent in old Hollywood. Not only does Charlie himself connect deeply with Sheldon, but so too does Ryan. Though Sheldon remains a constant in both their lives, the relationship he forms with Charlie makes up the backbone of the show. Cristofer’s acting, down to the harshest reaction at having not seen a Judy Garland film, feels masterful.
What doesn’t work as well is the constant breaking of the fourth wall. While it’s nice to see Ryan so seamlessly incorporated into his own show, an even greater depth of understanding could have been explored if the show simply played out without that additional layer of commentary. Then again, this is sort of my first experience with an autobiographical show. Ryan makes every effort to fully expose himself and his family’s often complicated dysfunction, unearthing many complicated dramatics among their dynamics. His uncle is an interesting figure, one that hides an inner strength, and a surprising gay sex position.

There are so many clever jabs of humor, many that exist expressly in a queer space. The dialogue can be jarring at times in its crude bluntness. But for a Ryan Murphy generation, Ryan Haddad’s dialogue is often laugh-out-loud hilarious, and always comes with a specificity behind the intent. The seamlessness of the script does feel a little stretched to pad out the time.
Still, minimal material could be cut out without losing some of the biting personality behind the prose. A touching series of voicemails and unique staging nicely establish the compelling atmosphere. Much of the intimate nature could be attributed to the setup. The set is a gorgeous recreation of Ryan’s uncle’s garden, one bursting with color and lush greens. A lifelike pond near the forefront had me doing a double take as I left the theater, wondering if there was actual water within it. Spoiler alert: it’s all real! This attention to detail makes this space that much more special to watch a show of this caliber. It adds and undeniable intimacy to the more raw and realistic elements.

Particularly in act two, Good Time Charlie goes for the jugular with emotional sequences. Ryan leaves room for one-on-one conversations, letting his characters breathe in the moment. A specific instance where Charlie tries to brush past a point of trauma gets underlined by Ryan’s insistence that Charlie face the demons of the past head on. Of course, with a show of this nature, much of it left me wondering how Ryan’s actual family members relate to the material. Ryan’s play acts as an incredibly intimate portrait, one that will speak to anyone within a queer space that has had to have a journey of coming out of the closet.
For my own experience, I absolutely consider myself blessed with how openly both of my parents received my coming out. It wasn’t some big production, though. My sister overheard me disclosing that I might be bisexual to a friend over the phone, then raced and told my mother. The rest is history. In both Ryan and Charlie’s cases, and very well in the case of any queer person, everyone’s coming out story presents in a totally different way, as part of their lived experience. A heterosexual audience member might not be able to connect on the same level to this topic. However, the show also elaborately details the feeling of being an outsider. Furthermore, it goes into grief and loss and the meaning of life. It goes into the assessment of arts, the connections we have with our chosen loved ones. So many of these topics are completely universal.

That said, a gay man or someone else on the rainbow spectrum will find far greater depth and relatability here than an average theatergoer. I was shocked to be in a puddle of tears by the time the curtain call without a curtain actually occurred. The show dug out a part of me that I didn’t even realize had been buried. Reacting this strongly, I had a difficult time imagining how Ryan handles a day-to-day performance of this emotionally taxing show. However he manages to keep himself in this space, it must be incredibly therapeutic to channel the energy of his lived experiences into an autobiographical play for all to see. Even a rousing rendition of “September Song” perfectly juxtaposed against a moment of tragedy aches with authenticity.
This type of naked exposure makes Ryan Hadad a playwright to look out for. For someone who only caught interest in Good Time Charlie through knowing Ryan’s performance in Netflix’s The Politician, I was completely bowled over by what he offered here, and will absolutely be looking out for whatever he develops next. An emotional roller coaster and a life-affirming delight, Good Time Charlie was a great time for this gay reviewer.
Enter a garden of dysfunction with Good Time Charlie, now playing performances at The Public Theater. For ticketing information, please head over to the official website.

