Top of their game: Steppenwolf veterans triumph in Chicago premiere of ‘You Will Get Sick’

“You Will Get Sick” — 3.5 stars

Namir Smallwood is on a roll.

Last fall, he delivered a beautifully limned performance as a solitary man navigating a major life change in Goodman Theatre’s production of “Primary Trust.”

In the spring, Smallwood turned in another finely tuned performance as an emotionally traumatized veteran who reunites with the father who abandoned him in Steppenwolf’s “The Book of Grace.”

Less than a month after that show closed, Smallwood is back on a Steppenwolf stage in another stellar turn alongside masterful fellow ensemble member Amy Morton for the Chicago premiere of “You Will Get Sick,” Noah Diaz’s quirky, albeit affecting, dramedy about a 30-something man navigating a terminal illness with the assistance of an employee (of sorts) turned unlikely ally.

Smallwood plays a man identified in the script as #1, who lives in an unnamed metropolis at a time similar to our own but with a few surreal exceptions, the most notable being murderous crows who swoop down and carry people off.

An unseen narrator (Jordan Arredondo, #5, whose voice-over provides a kind of balm) articulates with wistful candor thoughts Smallwood’s character cannot express. From #5’s narration, we learn #1 suffers from a neurodegenerative disease that he has not yet revealed to his loved ones. Unable to even utter the word “sick,” he hires 70-something Callan (Morton, returning to the stage after an eight-year absence), an aspiring actor preparing to audition for Dorothy in a community theater production of “The Wizard of Oz.”

After paying Callan $20 to tell his sister Polly (Sadieh Rifai) about his condition, #1 accompanies his not-quite-friend/not-quite-caregiver to an acting class where students learn to live inside their bodies even as he dies inside his.

As his health worsens, he negotiates with the transactional Callan for every service she provides: $15 to help him into his apartment; $5 to wipe his neck with a cool towel. She takes more than his money. She uses his experience as fodder for her audition monologue. But Callan co-opting his pain doesn’t earn our rebuke. Rather Morton’s innately honest performance earns our respect for this woman whose rough edges reflect unvarnished decency.

While their dubious camaraderie and arms-length affection doesn’t suggest friendship, they do share a bond evidenced by Callan rescuing #1 from a pushy insurance salesperson (Cliff Chamberlain) and deflecting questions from a prying co-worker (Rifai). Both Chamberlain and Rifai play multiple roles in director Audrey Francis’ compassionately staged and magic-infused production of a play whose humor and whimsy recall playwright and Wilmette native Sarah Ruhl.

In Diaz’s meditation on illness and death, sorrow touches everyone, even tangential characters: an emotionally fragile waiter, the aforementioned self-absorbed colleague, an old woman on a park bench. Much of “You Will Get Sick” is poignant. Some of it is a bit precious.

Not all the “Wizard of Oz” references paid off (some felt forced). And a scene late in the play during which #1 hallucinates family members and a former lover felt out of place initially. Fortunately, it resolves as a touching leave-taking, which will no doubt strike a chord with anyone who has bid farewell to a terminally ill loved one.

That said, there are several artfully staged, quietly eloquent scenes (credit Francis for embracing silence) between Morton and Smallwood. One of the loveliest unfolds during the acting class when scene partners Callan and #1 wordlessly express their hearts’ desires. Another powerful scene unfolds at a medical equipment supply store where they silently contemplate #1’s decline.

Watching these empathetic, unwaveringly authentic actors at the height of their powers is worth the price of admission. Smallwood and Morton don’t need words to mesmerize an audience. Their presence — subtle, substantial — is enough.

Hopefully, we won’t have to wait another eight years for Morton’s return engagement. As for Smallwood, he’s set to co-star with co-artistic director Glenn Davis in Steppenwolf’s revival of “Topdog/Underdog” in January.

I can’t wait.

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Location: Steppenwolf Theatre, 1650 N. Halsted St., Chicago, (312) 335-1650, steppenwolf.org

Showtimes: 7:30 p.m. Tuesday through Friday; 3 and 7:30 p.m. Saturday; and 3 p.m. Sunday through July 20. Also 2 p.m. July 2. No 7:30 p.m. performance July 4 or 8

Running time: About 85 minutes, no intermission

Tickets: $20-$165.50

Rating: For adults, contains strong language, mature themes