Brian Dang’s H*LLO K*TTY syndrome begins with the revelation that Hello Kitty is not a cat, but a girl. Several individuals weigh in. “What do you mean she’s not a cat? or “Well of course, she’s not a cat!” Perhaps we can presume she’s female? Or at least she presents as such. She calls herself “HK” popping up in the lives of her friends: a detective, a homemaker (her sister) and a cowboy. They take exception to her odd attire, but she refuses to remove her enormous head. She insists she’s not Hello Kitty, but HK, the girl they all know. Each feels abandoned by her, but not for want of caring. They want to intersect, but only on their terms.
What follows is a series of episodes: each a different angle intended to explore and demonstrate the same issues. Are we who we are, or how expectations shape us? Are we defined by our pursuits, our gender, archetypes? If you strip away all the layers, when will we find the essence of the essence? Each step in each piece has some element of the ridiculous. Solemn but absurd.
Perhaps this satire on the choice between the value of self and the value of others was inspired by Samuel Beckett. In Waiting for Godot, Happy Days, Endgame, existentialist Beckett considers the same dilemma over and again. We wait for omens and evidence of divine intervention, as if we had no agency. The characters In H*LLO.. likewise are searching for answers, especially HK herself. In one scene HK asks the bumbling Stage Manager (God?) spiritual questions but his answers are vague, passive, equivocal.
Above all, H*LLO…addresses the question of gender identity, and how it plays out in the day to day world. How our culture unwittingly indoctrinates us. At one point poor HK is thrown into the lair of serial killer, as you might throw a nun into a flophouse. We adopt the roles our culture imposes, but when crisis intervenes, they break down. Each character finds themselves switching to the archetypical garb of a different gender. The compulsively pie-baking homemaker becomes the noir detective, the cowboy becomes a housekeeper, the detective becomes the cowboy. I think. It feels like kids playing make believe. HK is a normal girl, obliged to keep everybody happy. The sunshiny angel without a mouth.
The play raises the question repeatedly, is intimacy possible without authenticity? Our identity (such as it is) anchors us. But if we remove that, if we see one another without accoutrements, do we lose friends by practical application? Does society demand sketchy assignation of gender and purpose? In a pivotal scene, a man and HK begin to spark romance. She is mutually compliant, but when she won’t shed her outer layer, things get ugly. She won’t let him sandbag. He’s not wrong, exactly. But it’s not his choice to make. And we don’t know many times she’s been wounded, when she took that risk.
Undermain has produced quite the spectacle. Playwright Brian Dang illustrates their insights in revved up, urgent permutations. The performers possessed by a manic energy, a myriad of chaotic montage. The various scenes, carefully, ritualistically composed, feel as if they’re colliding with the actual. The sublime wrestling with the farcical. The experience is exhilarating,
Undermain Theatre presents: H*LLO K*TTY syndrome, playing from May 1st through the 25th, 2025. Undermain Theatre. 3200 Main Street Dallas, TX 75226. 214-747-5515. www.undermain.org