Many
of us have a love-hate relationship with math. In my case, it was a hate-hate
affair until I read the immersive novel Cryptonomicon
by Neal Stephenson some 15 years ago. That book, bristling with mathematical
and internet complexity, somehow fascinated the brain inside my skull that had
formerly detested anything even vaguely connected to math.
This
devised play, like Stephenson’s yarn, is designed as an enveloping experience, centered around a software company that is finalizing work on a breakthrough, self-learning program
called Karnak (named after the ancient religious site or Johnny Carson’s
bumbling soothsayer? You decide).
One
of the leading code-heads Jac (an often compelling Valerie C. Kilmer) is trying
to perfect the software before it goes public, but the company president sets a
firm deadline, throwing all the programmers into a tizzy (often represented by
the actors running around in circles or leaping through the air).
However,
the fairly simple plotline is embellished with a torrent of tech-speak, often
rattled off at high speed. This may give less-than-savvy audience members the
feeling that they’ve stumbled into a college class for which they are woefully
unprepared.
In addition to Kilmer, the company of actors, which varies widely in ability, includes Ray Caspio, Christina Dennis, Christopher Hisey, Val Kozlenko, Aimee Liu, Ryan Lucas, Michael Prosen and Sean Seibert. Caspio stands out in his
monologue later in the show; it seems he could read a description of the Heartbleed
bug backwards and still be riveting.
Fortunately
there are several breaks during the 90-minute piece when the audience is invited
to roam around the large, dimly-lit basement space in the 78th St.
Studios building and observe content-related stations that have been set up.
Some are quite interesting, such as the Alan Turing gallery where the words of
that revolutionary math guru and World War II code breaker are displayed. That gallery sits adjacent to a recreation of Turing’s Bletchley Park office, nicely
detailed with puzzles and accompanied by period radio tunes.
Other
displays are just mystifying: a barricaded room with junk inside, a man
rambling on about binary code while playing with a waist-high sandbox, a space
draped in plastic called Cloud 9 (“Where you can be whoever you want to be”)
Indeed,
much of the Code experience is like
that. Impenetrable declarations (“Science is a differential equation”)
interspersed with sophomoric feel-good maxims (“Humanity should not be defined
by its limits”)
In
a piece that takes itself too seriously (unlike the Ninjas’ previous and more
successful devised experience The
Excavation, and unlike the hilarious programmer-centered show Silicon Valley now on HBO) there are few
humorous moments. One, when the too-busy-to-eat Jac is surrounded by dreams of
food, swarming to the tune of a Journey ditty, is quite amusing. And the ending of the entire piece has a wonderful wry
twist.
This is an expansive and boldly imaginative production, and for that it earns serious kudos. However, much of this excursion into the mathematical unknown, as directed by the pathologically-inventive Jeremy Paul, is sensory overload. That feeling is accentuated by
four monitors that interact with the actors and omnipresent electronic music and audio effects. Put
it all together and you have a sporadically interesting but frequently frustrating
theatrical kludge.
Of
course, that may be exactly what the TN creators want since they aver, in
mission statements that adorn the walls, that this production is just the embryonic beginning
of a much longer exploration into the subject. Indeed, the title reflects that objective.
If
so, one hopes that further iterations of this experience will be more accessible
to the average attendee and less smugly superior. And perhaps it could be built—at
least in part—around characters with some human depth, instead of the blips and
bleeps of their dense and private vernacular. In other words, break the code. Mr. Turing would approve.
Code:
Preludes
Through
May 18, produced by Theater Ninjas at the 78th St. Studios, 1300 W.
78th St., theaterninjas.com
No comments:
Post a Comment