Who do you think of when you think of Watson?
Sherlock Holmes’ faithful companion and publicist, the computer (named for
Thomas J. Watson, Sr., who ran IBM from 1914-1956) that beat Jeopardy’s
biggest winners in 2011, or Alexander Graham Bell’s assistant, the man who
received the first ever phone call.
Whichever it is, they are all present, along with a
modern robot and a charming young man both also named Watson, in
Madeleine George’s play, The (Curious Case of the) Watson Intelligence, that just
finished its run at the Azuka Theatre. In a time-bending script that requires each
of the actors to play multiple roles across the last century or so, Watson,
played in all his guises by Griffin Stanton-Ameisen, is the force that ties
them all together.
When
Edison, from a darkened doorway, repeatedly calls out “Watson, come here, I want
to see you”—or was it, as that Watson insisted, “Watson, come here, I want you”?—is
he, perhaps, expressing a need we all have to have someone, something, at our
beck and call. Eliza (Corinna Burns), a modern entrepreneur, who has left her
husband and her job and is starting her own company called Digital Fist, has
created her own Watson, a charming barefoot robot who rarely looks at her but
says just what she wants him to. Phrases like, “I just want to give you what
you want.” And who wouldn't want to hear that?
When
her ex, Frank Merrick (David Bardeen), a dismantle-the-government politician
who is running for the position of City Auditor, sends a Dweeb Team computer
technician, also named Watson, to spy on her, she is all too ready to fall into
bed and perhaps into love. Now she has two men in her life who want to give her
what she wants. But she’s not really sure what that is.
Meanwhile,
in the Victorian era, another Eliza goes to consult Sherlock Holmes about her
husband’s odd behavior and the strange marks that have been appearing on her
hands. Instead she encounters the ever present John Watson and he decides to
step in for the absent Holmes, even though he can’t seem to make even one
intelligent guess as to her circumstances. He is, however, there to help. He
wants to give her what she wants, while her husband, a nineteenth century
Merrick only wants to destroy her.
All
human relationships of the romantic sort are fraught with peril, it seems, and
that is why we need a Watson, an ever faithful companion, a robotic roommate,
to help us over the rough spots. Modern-day Eliza prefers her manufactured
confidant to a real-life, flesh and blood relationship, but once he is
complete, he becomes too perfect, and she must break up with him too. We want
connection, it seems, but not attachment.
The
play has moments of intrigue and connection, but at times gets talky and hard
to follow. The notion of having actors play multiple characters seems to be in
vogue right now, and the actors do well with acquiring English accents and
changing postures to indicate class and age and emotion. Stanton-Amiesen has
the most switches, from immobile robot, to disarming dweeb spy, to Victorian
sidekick—although not quite convincing as an object of desire. Burns portrays
Eliza’s emotional state well, but she could use a little more of the drive one
might expect from a techie driven to create a start-up. And Bardeen is
effective as he switches between a single-minded politician and abusive
husband, though a little modulation of energy might have created a more nuanced
performance. The set, designed by Dirk Durossette, switches between bedroom,
lab, office, Holme’s sitting room, and wherever else it has to be with minimal
fuss. The problem lies mainly in the script, which tries a bit too hard to be
clever and make a point about connection and communication and today’s internet
world without totally succeeding.
At
ibm.com, Watson the computer is described as “a cognitive
computing system” that “is a natural extension of what humans can do at their
best.” That may be, but if watching robots instead of actors is what lies
ahead, the future of theater may be in jeopardy (pun intended).
Azuka Theatre, Off-Broad Street Theater, 1636 Sansom
St, Philadelphia, PA 19103. November 5-23, 2014;
http://www.azukatheatre.org or (215) 563-1100
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