Pay Attention to Oblivious to Everyone

The only difficulties occurring at The Studio Theatre on Friday night were a few technical ones before the performance began.

Oblivious to Everyone, a brilliant one-woman show written and performed by Jessica Lynn Johnson, runs through Dec. 16 at the Theatre Row Complex on 42nd Street. The show is hardly about just one woman, however: Johnson combines ten characters into what might, in another setting, be considered a staged demonstration of split personality disorder. But her transitions from character to character are seamless, as abrupt, mid-sentence jolts transform her into a completely different, yet amazingly convincing, new person.

The play centers around Carrie (Sex and the City, anyone?), who walks onto the stage sporting a pair of tight Juicy pants, Dior sunglasses, and a Bebe shirt; she has difficulty carrying her designer shopping bags while simultaneously chatting on a cell phone and balancing on her wedge heels. We soon learn that Carrie has just reluctantly entered the office of her Harvard-educated therapist to address her parents' concerns about her childhood. A self-proclaimed "smut-aholic," Carrie is a would-be Paris Hilton from the clothes she wears down to her recently deceased dog, Tinkerbell-whose end inadvertently came in Carrie's zipped-up Louis Vuitton purse.

As Carrie begins to talk about her influences since childhood, we start to realize the stereotypes she harbors. Just as we are beginning to get to know her, however, Johnson unexpectedly surprises the audience with her segue into a stereotypical gun-toting hick from the Bible Belt. The transition is startling, mostly because Johnson's impression of the stereotype is perfect in every way: from the accent to the body movement, we completely forget the designer clothes she is wearing and believe she is the man she is impersonating.

And so it goes through the entire range of personalities: from a black woman to a porn star on Howard Stern's radio show to a handcuffed Latin man in love with Miss America, Johnson's portrayal of each of her characters is spot-on and impressive. One of the many successes of this piece lies within the seemingly unintentional result that, as a member of the audience, you change characters just as often as she does. Johnson's intimate acting style allows that when she is a guest on Jerry Springer, we are the Springer studio audience; when she is Carrie, we become the therapist, and so on. This aspect of the show greatly enriches the audience experience and makes the theatrical setting all the more interesting.

Each of Johnson's characters helps to illuminate the thematic underpinnings of the play. The 70-minute piece manages to touch on everything from body enhancements to racism to domestic abuse to sexual orientation-and everything imaginable in between. Yet surprisingly, you will have trouble not laughing at several of Johnson's characters, and the real beauty of her remarkable show is that she uses comedy to address these immensely serious, important issues. Johnson's skillful method succeeds, as her wonderful performance conveys her message more effectively than would yet another cliched off-Broadway show saturated with scenes of sadness and lament.

And so Oblivious becomes not only enjoyable in its performance, but also profound in its message and implications. Through her well-written script as well as her exceptional performance, Johnson provides us with an introspective look at the very society we comprise. We find ourselves laughing at the absurdities of our own world, and, in this way, gain insight into our own personal nature. The reflective view Johnson provides is a tremendous theatrical achievement, especially given the truly enjoyable nature of the piece.

Through the self-realizations Carrie has at her therapist's office, you find yourself realizing things about yourself that perhaps you either didn't know were there-or weren't willing to admit were there-before the show began. Carrie seems not to even realize the astuteness of her own observations, a strong acting choice on Johnson's part. We learn that Carrie's interest in celebrities stems from her "ignorance is bliss" mentality, as she simply chooses to ignore more serious issues like the war in Iraq. The brilliance, though, is that we learn this as she is realizing it for herself, giving this piece its defining quality. The montage of all ten characters at the end of the play, interspersing themselves into Carrie's personality-an extraordinary display of acting talent-is truly something to look forward to.

Through her show, Johnson points out the dangerous nature of our society's obliviousness and the need for change. With audiences as sparse as Friday night, however, Jessica Lynn Johnson isn't exactly changing the world-not yet, at least. With a show as inspired as this one, though, she might easily be well on her way to making a difference. Do yourself a favor and dish out the $16.25 to catch this gem while it's still here. Not only will you witness something deeply hidden in the heart of the theater district, you might just find something deeply hidden within yourself.