Review: Ed Schmidt’s “Edward” in Los Angeles
- Anthony Gutierrez
- Oct 30
- 3 min read
Updated: Oct 30
“Edward,” a new play by Ed Schmidt, is a singular experience. This much is clear immediately when you choose which evening to attend; each performance happens at a different private residence in various affluent Los Angeles neighborhoods.
The peculiarities continue once you arrive. A stoic usher greets you at the front door before inviting you to inspect 27 items on the dining room table that a man named Edward purportedly left behind.
In a recent performance, a few theatregoers mill around the dining room perusing the objects: one flips through a tattered edition of a Bible while another inspects a small pocket-knife and a third holds a Mr. Potato Head. Most people speak in a whisper. One woman asks aloud to nobody in particular, “Well this isn’t weird at all, is it?”
Once we sit around a large table, it feels more like a seance than a play. Ed Schmidt seems to materialize before our eyes. He first tells us what we already know: “Edward O’Connell died 12 years ago, at the age of 73, and left behind a box containing 27 objects. Each object tells a story.”
He goes on to explain just how unique an experience the evening would be: “...there are over ten octillion ways to tell Edward’s story. Ten octillion. That’s a one followed by 28 zeroes. That’s the number of grains of sand on the Earth. Multiplied by the number of stars in the Milky Way. In other words, an unfathomable number. Tonight, we will tell one of those ten octillion versions.”
Ed Schmidt is known for his experience-driven and experimental small-audience theatrical events. He cooked a meal for 12 guests each night of his play “The Last Supper” and crammed an audience into a locker room in Brooklyn for “Our Last Game.”
In “Edward,” each object on the table tells a different part of the deceased man’s story. A sense of anxious anticipation is palpable as Schmidt gestures to the nearest seated guest to pick an object. Each selection is followed by eloquent prose, as if a page from Edward’s biography had been ripped out and read aloud.
Except it all came from Schmidt. He narrates in the third person, like a detached Clarence looking down on George Bailey in “It’s a Wonderful Life” as he reveales the innermost memories and feelings of Edward’s life.
Allowing the audience to examine and hold the objects beforehand is a powerful and effective part of the show. Each person has an opportunity to create an emotional bond with the objects, each evoking a certain memory or feeling of their own. When you are then called on to pick an object, the moment feels sacred. Each person has a chance to choose the direction of the story, to determine what we get to know about the deceased Edward.
Like most of Schmidt’s work, the concept is incredibly simple. With a setup that resembles a party trick, Schmidt creates a format to exhibit his fantastic writing. Despite his refined speech and formal appearance, Schmidt draws us in with an approachable tone. His character speaks of Edward with intimate detail while maintaining the emotional distance of a narrator.
If given the chance, I would see this show as many times as I could, as it will never be the same twice.
Ed Schmidt’s “Edward” continues through Nov. 16 at various locations in Los Angeles, with shows beginning at 7 p.m. For schedule, information and tickets, visit EdSchmidtTheater.com. Run time is 1 hour and 35 minutes.
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