There is something theatrically spectacular about a solo stage performance. Hal Holbrook played Mark Twain in Mark Twain Tonight for 63 years, longer than Twain called himself Twain. James Whitmore played Harry Truman in Give ’Em Hell, Harry on stage and screen and earned an Oscar nomination. And Anna Deavere Smith created a whole new performance genre called “documentary theater” where she interviewed, then played, dozens of people centered around a theme or event.
I saw each of these pieces live, before my own eyes, and still am in awe of what I witnessed. And now I have seen Samuel Barksdale play over forty characters in Fully Committed, the opening show of the Altarena Playhouse’s 2026 season. And while this actor does not (yet) have the name recognition of Holbrook, Whitmore, and Smith, his extraordinary performance left me equally in awe.
This one-person play, directed brilliantly by Kimberly Ridgeway, and supported impressively by lighting designer Stephanie Anne Johnson and sound designer Alex Fakayode, is among the strongest offerings I’ve seen in several decades of shows at the Altarena. And while the play is presented as a comedy—and earned laughter from the enraptured audience—for me, this play was a serious commentary on privilege. Barksdale’s main character is Sam, who works making reservations at a very fancy restaurant (think The Bear). But on this day, he is alone with absent co-workers leaving him to handle all the calls from customers hoping to get a seat and dine fabulously. And here’s the rub: Given the status of the establishment, and the nearly nonsensical dining options (molecular gastronomy?), the folks trying to secure a table (all voiced by Barksdale) are among the most demanding, disgusting people you have ever heard and thankfully don’t have to see.
Sam handles call after call from the obnoxious class insisting on a certain table, at a certain time, with absurd menu accommodations (poor Gwyneth Paltrow is a punching bag in this play). And our everyman bends, twists, and torques himself attempting to make them happy. It’s funny because the actor does some amazing “actor” things—he makes bold physical choices to suggest different personalities, uses his voice to mock without ridicule, and works the performance space to convey people and place. The blocking is dramatic and nuanced. Well done, theater team.
But, again, what this play really reveals is the extent to which probably all of us act based on some sort of privilege and the expectation that those employed to serve us should feel obligated and fortunate for having the opportunity to meet our needs. In the simple act of wanting a seat to eat, celebrities, the wealthy, older people, and friends and family bring an arrogance we may not recognize in ourselves. OK, you have no room for them, but surely you do for me! I’m going to borrow the phrase “savage inequalities” from another context (public education) to name what the play exposes while we chuckle and guffaw. As Sam is nearly overwhelmed taking endless and overlapping calls (by the end exhaustion mists the air), we witness those around him showing essentially no respect for this person, this real person.
Barksdale, when not racing about, punching the many phone buttons in response to the cacophony of rings, pauses to tell Sam’s story—of someone with ambition for a better life, someone in grief, someone with a loving dad, someone deserving of consideration and compassion and not the avalanche of indifference he’s subjected to from those he’s trying to make happy. I kept hearing Johnny Paycheck’s “Take This Job and Shove It” in my head.
See this play for several reasons—to witness an incredible actor led by a superb director deliver a remarkable performance, to genuinely laugh at this piece of satire showing what fools we mortals be, but also to think about where we land on this continuum. What is our badge of privilege? When do we flash it? And do we honestly see the people around us who get paid so very little to make us feel so foolishly important?
Fully Committed runs until February 22 at the Altarena Playhouse, with performances on Fridays and Saturday at 7:30 p.m., and Sundays at 2 p.m. For more information and to purchase tickets, visit the Altarena Playhouse website.
Gene Kahane is the founder of the Foodbank Players, a lifelong teacher, and former Poet Laureate for the City of Alameda. Reach him at [email protected]. His writing is collected at AlamedaPost.com/Gene-Kahane.
