Good Time Charlie – 06 October 2026
A beautiful homage to the meaning and magic of theatre, Good Time Charlie is Ryan J. Haddad’s latest attempt to explain what it’s like to be a gay, disabled, Lebanese American theater artist. This latest walk in Haddad’s shoes features actors portraying his family members, with particular attention to his Uncle Charlie (Jonathan Raviv). Haddad feels that he owes an immense debt of gratitude to Charlie, whose familial introduction to homosexuality paved the way to quicker acceptance of Ryan’s. Though intended as a tribute, the primary conceit of the production is that Ryan is telling his family’s story through a theatrical performance that Ryan has written for them. The story centers around Ryan pushing Charlie too hard to re-live the painful moments of his life onstage and the play falling apart as loved ones show the differences in their true colors for Charlie versus their true colors for Ryan.
Characteristic of Haddad’s pieces, the show is fully accessible, including heavy descriptors for those who may be vision impaired. Though the importance of the accessibility that these offer cannot be denied, as someone who has seen some of Haddad’s previous works, it feels like a lot of exposition. The show would probably be a tight one act if not for all of the narration. Once the scenes started, they were very good and jam-packed with Haddad’s signature one-liners that keep audiences laughing and smiling throughout the entire show. Sheldon’s (Michael Cristofer) quips and Janice’s (Beth Malone) sarcasm and the sincerity of Lou (Tim Bagley) and Charlie’s love were absolutely delightful onstage, especially when juxtaposed with disconcerting scenes from Charlie Sr./Bob (Nael Nacer) and Joan/Judy (Artemis Pebdani), portraying two sets of parents dealing differently with their loved ones’ sexualities.
Uncharacteristic of Haddad’s previous works, Haddad rarely mentioned his disability. Normalizing life as a disabled person is a huge part of Haddad’s work, and this show did it by showing and not telling. Ryan simply existed in the space as a person, with very minimal references to his walker. He really shone in this role, playing an iteration of himself that transcended teaching others about disability and fully embraced his strength of character, incredible writing skills, and deeply developed storytelling abilities. It was heartening to see that even though Haddad’s identities are deeply important to how he presents on stage, he is a person first and foremost.
The set (Afsoon Pajoufar) for this production really felt like two things, though only explicitly described as one. Haddad introduces the set as a garden in Ohio. Perhaps it is because classic, golden age theatre was the pre-show music (Ryan Gamblin) to which I entered the space, but I could have sworn I was seeing sets from musicals in the scenic design. The large shafts of wheat reminded me of Oklahoma. The Japanese soribashi was vaguely reminiscent of sets I’ve seen for shows like The King and I and Miss Saigon. The pink chair set was very My Fair Lady. It felt like the visual representation of multiple ways to look at the world and multiple ways that theatre can soothe and save. It felt like a passionate love letter. It felt like an embrace.
Not every character in this show was embraced by all, but everyone was embraced by someone. Good Time Charlie placed emphasis on finding loved ones while growing up with incredible curiosity and clarity about the world you live in. In addition to being charming and lovable, it makes a bold statement, the sentiment of which I find most accurately stated in The Music Man, “there was love all around”. It is truly a blessing to be the kind of person who recognizes that love before it is too late, whether in biological or chosen family. Haddad’s Good Time Charlie cuts right to the very core of every human being; though we are flawed, we are all still lovable, and when we find the right people, we can make magic.
I attended this performance on a press pass from the Public Theater.
