Review: N.E. Premiere of Morally Ambiguous UNCANNY VALLEY

Uncanny Valley

Written by Thomas Gibbons, Directed by Weylin Symes; Scenic Designer, Crystal Tiala; Lighting Designer, Chris Fournier; Costume Designer, Rachel Padula-Shufelt; Sound Designer, David Remedios; Production Stage Manager, Rachel Policare

CAST: Nancy E. Carroll, Lewis D. Wheeler

Performances through October 23 at Stoneham Theatre, 395 Main Street, Stoneham, MA; Box Office 781-279-2200 or www.stonehamtheatre.org

Growing up in the 1950s and 1960s, science fiction books and movies were very popular among my classmates, especially anything having to do with space flight as the NASA program was in full swing. Before the Internet era, all that we knew of actual computers was from a school field trip to MIT to see their giant mainframe, but shows like The Twilight Zone and Lost in Space introduced us to robots that were computerized "beings," sometimes very humanoid in their aspect. Over the next several decades, technology took off at warp speed and intelligent machines have become ubiquitous in fact and in fiction. The omnipresence of personal computers, smart phones, and other electronic devices in our lives does not guarantee that everyone is equally enamored of this development. It might be cool to have your very own R2-D2 perambulating around the house, but the creepiness factor is significantly higher when your android is indistinguishable from your next door neighbor.

This premise is the definition of the term "uncanny valley" from the field of robotics. It is the idea that people's fascination with somewhat human-like artificial beings diminishes the more truly human-like they become, when our fascination turns to feeling creeped out. Stoneham Theatre presents the New England premiere of playwright Thomas Gibbons' Uncanny Valley, a view into the not too distant future when researchers have found a way to extend the human lifespan through Artificial Intelligence. According to the theatre's press release, Producing Artistic Director Weylin Symes chose the play because of his fascination with the questions it explores. While Gibbons delves deeply into the role of technology in our world, he also raises the issue of how wealth and privilege affect access to scientific breakthroughs, and he opens an ethical can of worms that may leave some squirming.

Uncanny Valley is a two-hander that stars Nancy E. Carroll as Claire, a neuroscientist at a life extension laboratory, tasked with teaching a robotic named Julian (Lewis D. Wheeler) to be human. Symes has the enviable job of directing this pair of stalwart Boston actors and, along with his design team of Crystal Tiala (scenic), Chris Fournier (lighting), Rachel Padula-Shufelt (costume), David Remedios (sound) and Jacob Street (props), creates a world that is familiar enough to be recognizable, even as it stretches our imaginations. The setting is Claire's office, wall shelves simply decorated with a few personal items such as a family photo, diplomas, and some books, and a pair of "heads" - one being an early robot prototype, the other a phrenology head. A large pedestal table center stage serves as the unit to contain/display the robot. During scene changes, the lighting is reduced to allow an uncredited lab assistant to rearrange Julian's clothing and limbs, while compositions of flute and strings accompany the pauses.

Often seen playing comedy with a straight face, Carroll imbues her left brain character with intelligence and warmth, a scientist with a mother's heart. As the play progresses, she reveals Claire's layers organically so that her inner secrets become as much a part of her portrayal as her researcher's external qualities. At times, Claire struggles with keeping a firewall between the personal and the professional, and Carroll lets the battle show almost imperceptibly in her body language with small gestures and facial expressions. In this instance, less is more when it comes to seeing Claire's pride and her heartbreak.

Whereas much of Carroll's work is played close to the vest, Wheeler travels a broader emotional arc as Julian develops through many phases. At the start of the play, he is seen from the shoulders up, capable only of turning his head side to side, and speaking in a clipped, mechanical voice. When he is given arms, he learns to play the flute and hopes to express emotion through his music. Wheeler conveys Julian's natural curiosity and sense of wonder as he soaks up knowledge, giving him a child-like quality. He shows sensitivity and empathy as he matures, appearing more human all the time. Together, Carroll and Wheeler share a parent-child chemistry that is heartwarming to behold, albeit not without conflict and challenges. When it comes time for their characters to part, these actors evoke the feelings that a mother and son might have when the latter is going off to college or moving far from home.

In the later scenes of the play, the focus shifts to the questions Gibbons is interested in exploring. Should one's wealth and privilege allow access to scientific breakthroughs that are unavailable to the less fortunate? Can an artificially intelligent being be defined as human or conscious and, therefore, entitled to human rights? How do we as a society determine what limits to set on technological advances? The playwright raises more questions than he answers, but the rich subtext contributes greatly to the compelling nature of the story. There are elements of both Frankenstein and Pygmalion hovering in the background, vis-a-vis the relationship between creator and creation, but Symes, Carroll, and Wheeler dig deep to unearth the special jewel that sparkles at the core of Uncanny Valley.

Photo credit: Nile Hawver/Nile Scott Shots (Nancy E. Carroll, Lewis D. Wheeler)

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