★★★★

“some interesting twists and turns along the way”

Anthropology, Lauren Gunderson’s new play premiering at the Hampstead Theatre, is a convoluted tale about sibling love that attempts to transcend life as we presently know it. It begins as a tale about a missing woman, and her sister’s refusal to give up the search for her. Since sister Merril is a tech wizard specializing in artificial intelligence, it’s not long before A.I is employed as a tool to help Merril in her mission. But at the heart of Anthropology is an unnerving question: can artificial intelligence mimic humans so well that people begin to respond to them as though A.I was human? And even more chilling: that A.I might produce intellectual and emotional interactions that are somehow even more relatable than the humans they imitate?

Gunderson’s protagonist Merril and her sister Angie have endured a tough childhood marked by their mother’s descent into drug addiction. Merril stepped up as Angie’s parent when mother Brin no longer could, so it’s not surprising that Merril would continue searching for her sister when everyone else has given up. Merril’s grieving is so intense, however, that she turns to A.I not only as a way of trying to find clues about what happened to Angie, but also as a way of maintaining a relationship that she cannot bear to relinquish. A.I Angie, it turns out, is just as prickly and unsettling as the original, and part of the pleasure of Gunderson’s humorous script is watching Merril (played beautifully by MyAnna Buring) caught continually off guard by her digital sibling’s unerring ability to cut to the chase regarding Merril’s failed relationships with lover Raquel (Yolanda Kettle) and mother Brin (Abigail Thaw). There’s a lot more story packed into this tense 90 minute thriller of a plot, and some interesting twists and turns along the way. Ultimately, however, Anthropology is less about the success of artificial intelligence in predicting human behaviour. It is more a story about failed human relationships.

“ninety minutes is too short a time to explore such complex subject matter as artificial intelligence in the context of a family drama”

Anthropology begins encouragingly enough in a gleaming white box of a set, designed by Georgia Lowe, sparsely populated by a podium, a screen, and two open lap tops on the floor. MyAnna Buring as Merril gives an intriguing account of her search for Angie by using A.I to sift through her sister’s digital footprint, looking for clues. Merril is very good at her work, and soon digital Angie has become video Angie, confidently predicting that human Angie may still be alive. There is, however, a price to pay. Merril will have to repair her relationships with Raquel and Brin in order to know for sure. It’s a great set up, and suggests all sorts of directions for the plot to go. The production is further enhanced by a medley of tech inspired lighting (James Whiteside), video design (Daniel Denton) and back projections, plus music and sound design (Max Pappenheim). But what begins promisingly as an exploration of artificial intelligence as solace for grieving (a subject also explored by pioneering sci-fi writer Isaac Asimov), ends up in Anthropology as yet another tale of absent parents and sibling rivalry. Even the wit and sparkle of Gunderson’s dialogue cannot quite disguise the recognition that this is pretty familiar territory, plot wise.

In fairness, ninety minutes is too short a time to explore such complex subject matter as artificial intelligence in the context of a family drama. Anthropology is a very American play; the all female cast treads all too familiar territory in such intimate settings. For all Merril’s high tech bravado, she is still fettered by the assumption that her life and career, are always at the mercy of relationship repair and unmet expectations regarding parenthood. It’s a brave attempt on Gunderson’s part to try to create a cutting edge drama about cutting edge technology. But the results are predictable, given the shortcomings of the humans (still) in charge.

REBECCA at Charing Cross Theatre

★★★★

“its sights are undoubtedly set on a bigger space”

“Rebecca” the musical has taken quite a while to come to our shores. Based on Daphne du Maurier’s Gothic novel of the same name, it was written by Michael Kunze (book and lyrics) and Sylvester Levay (music). When it opened more than a decade and a half ago in Vienna it played to sold out houses for over three years before crossing the oceans to Japan and back again to Finland, Hungary, Sweden, Germany, Switzerland, Serbia, Romania, Czechia and Russia. In the meantime, The English audience’s appetite was whetted by Emma Rice’s chillingly magical touring production which, in true Kneehigh fashion, was part musical, part fairy-tale, part horror fantasy.

High expectations lie in wait at the gates of Manderley for the musical, translated by Kunze and Christopher Hampton. Alejandro Bonatto’s production is quite fearless in the face of anticipation, so much so that the ambition and vision of the piece feels initially at odds with the choice of venue. With an eighteen-piece orchestra, twenty-two songs and an all singing all dancing ensemble, its sights are undoubtedly set on a bigger space. But for now, it has settled in for the autumn and it feels like this very English tale has come home.

Staying faithful to the novel it centres around “I” – the first-person narrator, known only as the second Mrs. de Winter. Having met the wealthy widower Maxim de Winter in Monte Carlo she all too rapidly becomes his wife and moves to his grand estate in Cornwall. Washed up in a ghost story without the ghosts, the new bride grapples with the oppressive presence of de Winter’s first wife – Rebecca – who died in mysterious circumstances the year before. Exacerbated by Mrs Danvers – the cold, overbearing housekeeper – she grows increasingly obsessed with the beautiful first wife. The suspense builds, secrets are revealed, and intrigues unravelled.

“The melodies are quite beautiful when needed; and stirring whenever required”

Like the novel, the musical opens with “I” famously saying (though in this case singing – and paraphrasing presumably for scanning purposes) ‘last night I dreamt of Manderley’. We immediately get a taste of the sumptuous score, and the quality of the singing voices on display. The atmosphere is created, but then somewhat dismantled as events and the central romance progress at breakneck speed. Songs come and go, often ending too soon. Crescendos and climaxes bounce off the walls leaving little space for true characterisation. While Richard Carson’s Maxim de Winter is quite rooted in his awkward and arrogant secrecy, Lauren Jones’ “I” has the more pronounced arc; even though we have to wait until after interval to witness Jones’ transformation from timid outsider to gutsy go-getter who can rightfully grab what is hers. When she looks like stealing the show, it is snatched away by Kara Lane as Mrs Danvers, with a soul of steel and voice of velvet. The duo makes compelling watching, particularly during act two’s opening number ‘Rebecca’. The gauntlet is thrown, and the stage is set. The second half of the show is indeed several notches up from the first act, and the mists of darkness and deviousness break away from the artificiality of dry ice, to form something more tangible and emotive.

The bleak Cornish setting is evoked through David Seldes’ lighting and Matt Powell’s projections, with the old school theatricality of Nicky Shaw’s sets, deftly manoeuvred and transformed by the ensemble cast. An ensemble that is equally as important as the leading players, and given several rousing numbers that set the scene and drive the plot. It is more melodrama than psychological insight, but then again – is that a bad thing? We’re not looking for Daphne du Maurier’s literary subtleties. We want the essence, which is what is achieved. The melodies are quite beautiful when needed; and stirring whenever required. Sometimes, however, it is superfluous to requirements, and therefore stretches the show beyond its natural length. A show that, in turn, is pushing at the walls of the space. The true vision is confined for now, but it is still quite thrilling. The heart may be relatively unmoved, but the senses are indeed stirred.

ANTHROPOLOGY at the Hampstead Theatre

★★★★

“some interesting twists and turns along the way”

“ninety minutes is too short a time to explore such complex subject matter as artificial intelligence in the context of a family drama”

ANTHROPOLOGY at the Hampstead Theatre

Reviewed on 18th September 2023

by Dominica Plummer

Photography by The Other Richard

Previously reviewed at this venue:

Anthropology

Anthropology

REBECCA at Charing Cross Theatre

★★★★

“its sights are undoubtedly set on a bigger space”

“The melodies are quite beautiful when needed; and stirring whenever required”