A Long Day's Journey Toward Infinite Night Henri Shnuffle's tiny apartment has at least 14 clocks, including 11 on a single wall. There is even one atop his hat. Time is simultaneously something the aged, frail Henri has in abundance and a precious commodity that is slipping away. The apartment is conjured in a below-the-sidewalk space on Bond Street, where the Sprat Theater Company is inviting audiences to experience "One Day in the Life of Henri Shnuffle." It is a slow-moving, painstakingly detailed day, and James Williams portrays Henri with an exactitude that makes you feel his aches with every creaky step. This is moderately immersive theater, with audience members seated along the walls of the apartment and sometimes interacting with the performers. The intent is to make you experience the world as Henri does. For this segment of the aged population, a simple walk across the room takes 10 minutes, and a stroll to get groceries at a nearby market occupies the whole day. Well, not quite, because Henri spends parts of it revisiting his past: Nicolas Cerkez is young Henri; Elizabeth Holliday is a sprite who represents old loves and friends; and Kathy Richter provides sparse narration. Henri's best nonimaginary friend seems to be his cat, Existentialisme, impressively incarnated by Andy Jean Louis; the explanation of the cat's name is the play's most substantive moment. The purpose here, though, isn't so much to tell a story as to depict a way of life, solitary and disconnected from the world. Henri does have a balky radio; missing is a television, which for many in this demographic is an all-day companion. How illuminating you find this delicate 80-minute re-creation may depend on whether you have a fragile older person in your life. Even those who do, though, might be unsettled; it's sobering to contemplate how Dad or Grandpa gets along when no one else is around.