Artificial Review: Artificial is Real

When you think of robots, machines and AIs, the first assumptions are mechanics designed to assist humans, without the complexity of emotions attached. However, Artificial challenges the Alexa mind-set, with a production that contains much more feeling than many with an all-human cast.

Artificial, written by Luke Culloty, centres around the seemingly laborious life of Dom, a therapist of robotics, who installs AI devices into homes, after assessing what programme will best fit a family’s needs. (Think extravagant babysitter to assist parents who are always working, or mediator for rowing couples.) However, as the play continues, we see that although Dom’s life seems to be just about machines, he desires a real relationship: preferably the one that he lost, leaving him in limbo. His guide, Kurtus, the AI, is his assistance and confidant, in the complex relationships that he finds himself in.

Official poster for Artificial

Last week, I travelled in alone to see Artificial, so as I sat in my solitary seat, in the snug, black-walled stage that is situated upstairs in the Hen and Chicken’s Theatre and Pub, I had a chance to (I tried to avoid the clichés but here it comes) take in the scene presented to me: a singular white, rectangular box was placed in the middle of the shallow stage. This was to be a great grounding point for the production, with each scene using it as either a bed for Dom to mope and contemplate; shelving to accentuate the breach of personal space one particular customer infiltrated; a family sofa, perfectly designed for observation. With each scene change, the lights dimmed and the actors soundlessly moved the objects, ready for the next scene. I have not seen that many plays, let alone those that are small-scale like Artificial, but I felt that the slick movements also aided the storyline: all our lives flow and ebb into one another. And, in Artificial, this is all helped by artificial intelligence.

At first, I found the voice of Dom’s AI, Kurtus, quite jarring: it was not the monotonous, robotic drone that we assume, but human voices, with inflects and tone and sense of humour. However, after getting over the non-robot-robot voice, I actually preferred them: there was something so natural to hear a machine giving advice with a comforting tone. (I hope this does not spoil it but) I admired the use of light up bulbs to represent each AI, with a haphazardly scrawled smiley-face on Dom’s Kurtus, which made his sassiness all the more amusing.

However, what really made this play unique is the raw and true feeling that was not only delicately cultivated in the acting, but also in the writing and the music. In fact, on two occasions I had to attempt steady, silent breathing to prevent tears welling in my eyes: ‘Nothing’, a song ‘composed’ by Kurtus (original score by Issy Matheson), as two characters decide their fate together; and the finale, as another composed piece draws to a close, and the message of Artificial is concluded: we must live in the present, and use feeling and connectivity to get there.

As I briskly walked to the train station and began to write this review on said train, bounding back down the Metropolitan Line, I was trying to think of a captivating way to finish off this review. And, I think a simple thanks is in order: thank you firstly to Luke Culloty, who wrote and I believe created Artificial, as well as with the actors and crew, bringing out an absolutely beautiful piece that I wish more people could witness. There was unexpected comedy, which added a well-needed contrast to the more poignant moments, equipped with timeless music, which much like Eva, I hope I can acquire a copy. One of the great strengths in the writing was the ability to teach morals, without being propped up with clichés: I understood the idea of creating your own destiny, not dwelling on the past (or crying over spilt milk), living life to the fullest without it ever being explicitly shoved into my face. And, it was all the more clever using AIs, the one design that is supposed to carry no emotions at all. The realistic acting also carried out the storyline: I really believed in Dom’s heartache and the unexpected worries of Kurtus, as well as the idea that these AIs, with their individual humours and voices could be pushing aside our Alexa’s. And finally, a thank you to Matt, the voice of Kurtus, who is not only a good friend but a great actor. Your sass levels were the highest I have ever seen them (and that is saying something) and I wish you and the rest of the cast the best of luck in the next play you do.