Nancy Luna, Kalani June, Santiago Rivera Laugerud, Eduardo De Azevedo Grillo, Tyler Meredith, Alexandra Royer, Anna Kichtchenko, and Fran Alvarez Photo by Todd Rosenberg

Most of the story features (presumably) a version of Carroll herself as a narrator who returns to the refrain of "Things I've Seen While..." to set up scenes that range from childhood nostalgia to the urgent need to find love in all its many forms in young adulthood to the disorienting horrors of falling, both literally and metaphorically.

Surrounding her are the members of The 7 Fingers, who do far more than simply acting out narrated scenes. Rather, they take inspiration from the setting to fuel displays of their abilities as well as their failed experiments. One of most effective technique that keeps the show grounded and touching is the fact that we not only see them try and brilliantly succeed, but try, fail, offer a genuinely glad grin and move on when they miss the object they're juggling, don't quite clear the frame of the chevalier mirror, and so on.

Moreover, the choreography is designed to let the audience see the artistry, strength, and grace, but also the physical struggle involved in executing it. The most notable example of this closes the first act as the movements of one artist on the trapeze above center stage are captured from directly below by another artist with a digital camera projecting the images directly on to the upstage curtain.

Carroll's show is backed by phenomenal staging. Ana Cappelluto's scenic design is framed by the foundational memory of Carroll's attic bedroom and uses a series of simple, movable pieces. These are tarnished mirrors and ghostly, weathered wood flats, that teeter and loom. Pieces are draped or simply rolled away as needed, and the only near constant is an iron bedstead that carries the main character from childhood through ill-advised trysts, motherhood, progression through a career, and eventually a cancer diagnosis. The bed is more than a simple metaphor or component of the set. It is used to stunning effect for one of the most powerful scenes.

In addition to the live camera feed sprinkled throughout the story, the show uses projections to render lines of Carroll's poetry in visual terms. Johnny Ranger is credited as the projection designer, and this element of the production, too, is wonderfully done, culminating in a moving photo montage as the narrator hopes that what she will see, lying on her back, is faces. Alexander Nichols' lighting design incorporates the efforts of the artists as well, as they carry spotlights, but Nichols combines this with full-on use of the traditional lighting to illuminate every inch of space the artists use.

Marie-Chantale Vaillancourt's costumes show no trace of the limitations inherent in outfitting the group for the demanding physical work they have to do. The color palette is almost entirely cream and off-white, but the cuts are varied from performer to performance and shift slightly throughout the show, whereas the narrator remains in a hospital gown over a full slip. This holds the main character steady as she calls up memory and projects herself outward into the bodies and skills of those who can still do what she was once physically capable of.

The music, with direction by Colin Gagné, also calls on the artists to do the work of creation. Although much of it is clearly created offstage, the performers pick up an accordion, a guitar, a bass, or pull up a cajón. This is the one element of the show that occasionally disrupts what is otherwise tantalizing and immersive. The more full-fledged songs are sometimes jarring, from a riff on "Sesame Street"'s "Pinball Countdown" to a questionable inversion of the spiritual "Motherless Child" (here, "Childless Mother"), but the intentions don't always land. That said, however, much of the music is melancholy and beautiful, or energizing and rhythmic as the scene demands.

Tyler Meredith is wonderful as the unnamed narrator. She is more than up to the demands of playing herself as an infant, as well as herself as a self-conscious memoirist, a broken-hearted lover, and a fearful mother, wife, and woman facing down the C word. More impressively, she is comfortable both engaging physically with the other performers and stepping back when what the scene demands is beyond her capabilities.

Surrounding her, the members of The 7 Fingers, Fran Alvarez, Melvin Diggs, Eduardo de Azevedo Grillo, Kalani June, Anna Kichtchenko, Nancy Luna, Santiago Rivera Laugerud, Alexandra Royer, and Lucy Tan, are incredible. Obviously, their circus artistry is front and center here, but there is no shortage of dramatic and comedic ability either.

The 7 Fingers' The Attic: Things I've Seen While Lying on My Back runs through October 4, 2026, at the Goodman Theatre, Albert Theatre, 170 N Dearborn, Chicago IL. For tickets and information, please visit GoodmanTheatre.org/Attic or call 312-443-3800.