Wone body. Four men. Eighty minutes on a bare stage under a single light.
Written · Directed · Performed by AJ Wone
AJ Wone plays every Wone. Four costume changes. Wone lavalier mic. A screen for the clips. The rest is bodies and voices — a comedy with a father waiting at the end of it. The house stays dark, the light finds Wone man, and four lives come through him.
First light of the night. Wone opens in his voice.
The filmmaker behind the camera, remembered from the front of the stage.
On the set, on eight wheels, on every story worth telling twice.
Wone's blood. The last man under the light, and the reason for all of it.
Walker takes the stage between each man with a short introduction — a critic's frame, a friend's warmth. He is the through-line that hands Wone portrait to the next and lets the audience breathe before the light changes.
“You should write a play about these guys.”
“You the only Wone interested in those guys, bro.”
Two days later, the whole play was written. Walker heard it first in an apartment with no furniture. Then weeks later, David invited fifty of his friends packed in a NE Portland living room, and the "four men" filled it. Every Wone of them walked out overwhelmed.
A production that travels clean and books fast. Your house stays bare — Wone performer, Wone mic, Wone screen, a rack of four costumes. Everything the audience needs arrives in the writing and the light.
Empty. No built set. The bareness is the design.
Projection screen or monitor for film clips between beats.
A single lavalier. Hands stay free for the transformation.
Four quick-change stations for four men.
Four From Wone is ready to open. The script is finished, the show is staged, and it fits your house as it stands. Let's set the dates.