SMART
by Mary Elizabeth Hamilton
Directed by Matt Dickson
Ensemble Studio Theatre
Reviewed by David Spencer
Smart is being presented as a play about the part that technology can play as a balance-changing component in contemporary relationships. In the abstract, not a bad premise; in reality: well, who among us has not been profoundly affected by the introduction of new technologies into our routines?
The triumvirate of humans Smart presents consists of Elaine (Kea Trevett), a young realtor; Ruth (Christine Farrell), her aging, cantankerous mother, beset by encroaching dementia; and Gabby (Francesca Fernandez), a programmer. Making it a quartet is “Jenny,” a virtual assistant (think Alexa or Siri), purchased by Elaine to be a kind of companion to her Mom, through which she can also check up on her Mom via remote audio. As the play progresses, Gabby will approach Elaine as a possible buyer, but become her lover…and we’ll learn that among the devices Gabby programs…is “Jenny.”
As it happens, I know something of this circumstance from real life: My Dad’s 100, and my brother recently bought him an Alexa. The device has certainly made a difference in his life…a small one technically, a somewhat larger one in terms of spirit…he has access to the music of his memories, when he remembers how to address Alexa correctly (which is most of the time), and in keeping him engaged, it keeps those short-term memory synapses firing somewhat better than they would without the stimulation. And of course he has the volume up too loud for the rest of us at times, but…small price to pay…
Aside from that, though…there’s not much potential drama to the device’s inclusion in our lives. Particularly since one can inexpensively keep video tabs on an elderly parent, including audio—which my brother and I do as well, via a separate cam-system setup. Which is more impressive and can bring up more potential issues that are also not reflexively dramatic because being conscious of them is also a part of responsible electronic life.
This is not to say that a play exploring this offspring-parent schema is obligated to replicate my personal experience. Heaven forfend. But if the play’s premise is that homes are potentially “bugged” via devices we bring into them…well, through how many decades of storytelling in all media has that truth obtained? No bracing revelation there.
(Indeed, one of my favorite TV series, the Canadian-produced ReGenesis, spent four seasons dedicated to exploring the long-game consequences of imminent present-day technology. And its strength was that it kept dramatizing developments that were unanticipated yet logically inevitable. That made you think.)
(And I’m suddenly reminded that even theatrically, the interactive “Jenny” was anticipated in the intimate, single-set Broadway musical Shelter, book and lyrics by Gretchen Cryer, music by Nancy Ford. He was called “Arthur,” he made a much more consequential statement about electronics impacting relationships [there were only four human characters], he was much more technologically versatile, he was only a slight projection into the future, he would be utterly credible as a home device in 2023…and that musical was produced in 1973. A half-century ago.)
(And if the subject is AI intrusion, don’t get me started on Colossus: The Forbin Project [1970], based on a DF Jones novel from 1966. Which is pretty much the iconic treatment.)
And that’s the problem with Mary Elizabeth Hamilton’s play. “Jenny” doesn’t do anything terribly dramatic in Smart, either. “Jenny” eventually, in the end, is employed as an artificial dramatic device to exacerbate trust issues between Elaine and Gabby—if Elaine can check up on Ruth, why can’t Gabby-the-“Jenny”-programmer check up on Elaine?—but that simply doesn’t have its intended impact. Even taking the Elaine-Gabby relationship on its own terms, not enough is at stake; it’s all commitment-issue-centric and they’re both basically good people.
This reduces Smart to a mild domestic drama that blends the frustrations and challenges of being a primary caregiver with the frustrations and challenges of embarking on a new romance at the same time. “Jenny” plays such a minor part in the actual story mechanics that you could remove her and have pretty much the same story via some other electronic McGuffin.
That said, Smart is decently directed (Matt Dickson), well enough acted and competently dialogued—if it isn’t bracing, it also isn’t dull. Ms. Hamilton is talented enough to deliver characters who, if not yet unique, hold stage. That’s not insignificant. But rather than coming off as a metaphor for The Way We Live Now taken to the next level, Smart plays out like a relationship drama throwback—almost a Lifetime-style TV movie—with an AI toy performing basic functions for contemporary color.