Claire is a neuroscientist for a firm that develops Artificial Consciousness, and subsequently, automatons (robots) capable of learning, deductive reasoning and possibly, thought. As Uncanny Valley opens, the most current replicant arrives: Julian. He’s only completed from the waist up, but seems sentient, conscientious and (excuse the expression) personable. Claire begins tutoring him, not only explaining the fundamentals of operating in the actual world and subsistence, but the basics of propriety and polite society. Julian is a quick study, he advances rapidly, evolving and striving to grasp the nuances of language, human expression, and the subtext that humans take for granted. As Julian acquires “legs”, Claire instructs him in ideas such as demeanor and the way body language affects how others perceive us. When Claire accepts Julian’s invitation to waltz, we realize he is not only proficient, but charismatic as well. And it’s a bit alarming.
Written by Thomas Gibbons, Uncanny Valley considers the far reaching implications of Artificial Intelligence and what distinction (if any) divides human beings from autonomous machines designed to emulate us, in all our flawed, tremulous glory. If an actor learns a script, it’s not enough to learn the lines and when to say them. Ideally, the performer understands why he or she is speaking a particular line, and the impact it has. One of the reasons we probably couldn’t (or shouldn’t) see teenagers staging A Streetcar Named Desire is because they haven’t lived long enough to come from a place of experience and context. In the same way, it isn’t clear whether Julian has enough information gathered to surmise the demands of responding to difficult situations. How do we know what to say when a friend has lost someone near and dear? When we must end an intense romance? When one of our children is afraid of a thunder storm? It’s not enough to know what to say, but how to say it. Is it possible to construct intuition? Impulsiveness? Warmth?
It isn’t easy to anticipate where this play is going when the first act concludes. Certain implacable truths emerge in the second act and without (I hope) revealing too much: we discover that Claire is more conflicted that she’s previously confided, and that Julian’s blind spots will cause her great misery. Her office has been swept clean of all its decoration and memory tokens, as she’s decided to retire after a long and satisfying career. Julian shows up unexpectedly, to see her for one last time. Gibbons seems to appropriate from other resources, such as Blade Runner, Bradbury’s I Sing the Body Electric and even Twilight Zone. “Uncanny Valley” is a term describing the queasy feeling that occurs when the line between automation and authentic human existence starts to evaporate. Gibbons has disguised the disturbing in the clothes of the innocuous.
Black Flag Theatre Company presents the Regional Premiere of: Uncanny Valley, playing from March 30th-April 28th, 2018. Cox Building, 1517 H Avenue, Plano, Texas 75074. (972) 435-9517. www.blackflagtheatre.org