←Recommendations of I'll Tell You at Sunrise

I saw a staged reading of this at the 2018 Midwest Dramatists Conference, and it blew me away! I don't want to say too much, but this is a very powerful piece with two distinct voices. It deals with some pretty complex issues in its 10 minutes, but its smooth and believable. Fantastic ending!

There's a reason this play has so many recommendations. Gonzalez has written an evergreen dialogue here, a play rooted in the moment and place, that could resonate anywhere. Populated with such human moments, in contrast to unimaginable confusion and sadness, draws the listener in close and doesn't let us go. This beautiful piece is both real and uplifting, a triumph of spirit.

Just when you might feel life's no longer worth living, some strange phenomenon or force challenges you to think what you might be giving up if you pull the trigger -- quite literally -- on yourself. In "I'll Tell You at Sunrise," that force takes the shape of a homeless man who is trying to make a suicidal man pause and reflect in this brief but poignant play. Sometimes only someone who doesn't know you can understand your pain, whatever it might be, and Franky Gonzalez captures the ironic powerful connection that strangers can feel.

This is an achingly beautiful play that touches on a subject that is very hard to deal with. Franky Gonzalez has made it powerful by avoiding the cliches and writing real moments. This play needs to be seen.

I’ll Tell You at Sunrise is such a heart warming experience about pain and promise. Gonzalez creates one of the most epic battles between life and death that I’ve ever read and I love the lessons portrayed and learned from it. The part where the Vagabond talks about the sunrise and subway sandwich is just such a real life nugget of wisdom that we all should experience on a daily basis. I love this play so much for the hope it instills and look forward to reading other works by this talented writer.

You might not know the big meaning of your life, but the simpliest pleasures - a newborn, a submarine sandwich at sunrise, fill-in-the-blank - the surprising moments of being alive surrounded by beauty - can get you through life. That's the lesson in this powerful play. The unnamed man may represent the common person of late-stage capitalism (did he lose his job, his money? who knows), may embody the despondency and depression that many of us are feeling right now in Trump's America. Whatever he represents, the homeless man is the antithesis: he offers Hope. Check out this beautiful play.

A truly beautiful piece of art. Gonzalez has carefully and respectfully rendered two people who have known dark places. We don't know much about either of them, but we know everything--everything that we need to know. There is such a gorgeous simplicity to this piece, but there is such incredible depth. I can see this piece really reaching someone in a dark place because it is honest and gentle, but it is also challenging. An important piece with an important message. I am so pleased that this will be staged for "A Light in Dark Places." Highly recommended.

Wisdom often comes from unexpected places. In Gonzalez’s touching two-hander, we get it from a homeless man reaching out to a stranger in a time of crisis. There are beautiful speeches in this play. Tackling a delicate issue like suicide without sounding preachy or trite can be very tricky, but this play does so masterfully. The imagery is powerful, and the negotiation between the two characters is so carefully crafted, that you can’t help but be filled with hope and warmth when reading the final lines. Italian subs and skyline twilight views... yep. That is the stuff.

A bond made on the thin line between life and death. A friendship created out of the desperation of two painful lifetimes. Gonzalez puts us in a situation in which words can only mend what has been broken, then let us experience the game between these two individuals that seek for the right words to accomplish their goals.