Tag Archives: James Whiteside

Anthropology

Anthropology

β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…

Hampstead Theatre

ANTHROPOLOGY at the Hampstead Theatre

β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…

Anthropology

“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.

 

ANTHROPOLOGY at the Hampstead Theatre

Reviewed on 18th September 2023

by Dominica Plummer

Photography by The Other Richard


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

Stumped | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | June 2023
Linck & MΓΌlhahn | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | February 2023
The Art of Illusion | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | January 2023
Sons of the Prophet | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | December 2022
Blackout Songs | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | November 2022
Mary | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2022
The Fellowship | β˜…β˜…β˜… | June 2022
The Breach | β˜…β˜…β˜… | May 2022
The Fever Syndrome | β˜…β˜…β˜… | April 2022
The Forest | β˜…β˜…β˜… | February 2022

Anthropology

Anthropology

Click here to read all our latest reviews

The Dumb Waiter

The Dumb Waiter

β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…

Hampstead Theatre

The Dumb Waiter

The Dumb Waiter

Hampstead Theatre

Reviewed – 8th December 2020

β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…

 

“keeps the signature ambiguity of Pinter’s work on the front burner”

 

It is fitting that Harold Pinter’s β€œThe Dumb Waiter” should re-open at Hampstead Theatre exactly sixty years after its London premiere on the same stage; then called the Hampstead Theatre Club, housed in a parish church hall. This anniversary production was scheduled for March of this year, but an extended Pinteresque pause (caused by you-know-what) pushed it into the theatre’s winter programme. Its themes are befitting too: the two characters in the play are playing a waiting game, with mystifying and contradictory information drip fed to them from on high.

Holed up in a bleak, oppressive and windowless basement are two gunmen. Silence stretches across the first few moments, rich in meaning. Ben reads a newspaper while Gus ties his shoelaces. Ben flicks a page of the paper while Gus walks to the door, then takes his shoes off, one by one, to take out a flattened cigarette carton and matchbox. They are both useless. Later on, an envelope is mysteriously delivered containing a dozen loose matches. Why? Moments like these puncture the absurdism to reveal a darker, more ominous side to the writing in Pinter’s earlier works.

Alice Hamilton’s sensitive and stark direction enhances the sense of foreboding whilst still allowing the comedy to shine through. But the onus is on the performances. Alec Newman, as Ben and Shane Zaza, as Gus, are a cracking, Cockney double act. They brilliantly handle the vaudeville rhythms of the dialogue, lulling us into a false sense of security with poetically mundane humour before delivering a punch. Ben wants Gus to light the kettle, but Gus explains that you don’t light the kettle; you light the gas, then boil the kettle. The banter has a hilarious drunkard logic to it, but you can feel an undercurrent bubbling away. Ben appears to be keeping a lid on something and Newman perfectly evokes the strain of trying to stop it boiling over.

Both Newman and Zaza capture immaculately the balance of power and dynamics in their relationship. Although not quite the protΓ©gΓ©, Gus still sees Ben as his mentor. An odd couple, testing each other, talking over each other, with Ben repeatedly calling the shots. And forever in the background is the dumb waiter itself, from which, bizarrely, food orders are delivered as though they are in a restaurant’s basement kitchen.

But the β€˜dumb waiter’ could also be either of the two characters. Like in like Samuel Beckett’s β€œWaiting for Godot”, this is an absurdist comedy about two men waiting in a universe without meaning or purpose. But they’re not as dumb as they look. They play the comedy against the menace, the familiar against the unfamiliar, with an ambiguity that keeps you guessing.

How much does Ben know? Who is the victim? Or are they both victims of a higher order? Puppets even – with somebody else pulling the strings – both low down in the pecking order. Although Ben is slightly higher up, he is still just a follower of orders, and the symbolic crashing down of the dumb waiter is the hand that forces him to carry them out. Or does he?

A short, one act piece that keeps the signature ambiguity of Pinter’s work on the front burner, but also a deeply personal play about betrayal that is given a touching and human face by this fine acting duo.

 

 

Reviewed by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Helen Maybanks

 


The Dumb Waiter

Hampstead Theatre until 16th January

 

Recently reviewed by Jonathan:
The Off Key | β˜…β˜…β˜… | White Bear Theatre | October 2020
What a Carve Up! | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Online | October 2020
Little Wars | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Online | October 2020
Right Left With Heels | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Online | November 2020
Marry me a Little | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Online | November 2020
Rent | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Online | November 2020
Falling Stars | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Online | November 2020
Ute Lemper: Rendezvous With Marlene | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Online | November 2020
The Flying Lovers of Vitebsk | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Online | December 2020
Salon | β˜…β˜…β˜… | Century Club | December 2020

 

Click here to see our most recent reviews