NPX Weekly Round-Up: Ada by Aeneas Sagar Hemphill
A sci-fi story that uses the morality around AI to discuss sexual trauma and abuse, plus three other plays I'm excited by this week.
Content warnings for Ada by Aeneas Sagar Hemphill: discussions of sexual assault and trauma, political ideology, climate change, and human rights violations; blow by blow account of sexual assault (spoken, not visually depicted).
If you can’t tell by now, I love plays that fit within genres that we rarely see on a mainstream Broadway-type stage, such as horror, sci-fi, and fantasy. I understand that for some, it seems that stories in these genres are impossible to recreate without “movie magic” such as CGI and elaborate, multi-million dollar sets. But plays like Ada by Aeneas Sagar Hemphill continue to prove that incorrect.
When people think of sci-fi, I believe some of the first things that come to mind are crazy looking aliens, strange settings on other planets or starships, and advanced technology— all things that sci-fi movies tend to depict utilizing insanely high budgets for costumes, makeup, set design, stunts, and more. Would it be hard to put a sci-fi horror in the style of Alien on stage? Absolutely! But sci-fi is much more than that.
Take your average Black Mirror episode, such as the highly acclaimed “San Junipero”. The story depicts two young women in the 80’s meeting and falling in love, and then it is revealed that they are both inside a simulated reality for the deceased and soon-to-be-deceased. This episode was filmed with a famously low budget and doesn’t show anything that I believe couldn’t be replicated effectively on a stage. It’s still sci-fi.
Basically, the sci-fi genre is more than just shooty shooty aliens, and Ada is further proof of that.
Here is the summary of Ada from NPX:
Ada has long been a proud worker for the Company, a corporation which, following an event of ecological collapse known as “The Flood,” has taken charge of every aspect of production and social life. When Ada experiences changes in her performance, she is assigned to her superior, Joan, for frequent meetings to assess and correct her thinking and behavior. Their work together begins to reveal a possible history of trauma, but Joan remains in denial—until a shocking act of violence throws her perfectly-ordered world off balance and puts her at odds with her radical daughter.
Honestly, it sorta sounds like a Black Mirror episode to me (in the best way possible). My initial thoughts after reading the summary were: “This sounds like an anti-capitalist bop,” and “What effect did this ecological collapse have on society?” Neither thought is unexplored in this work, but neither capture the full themes of the play either. If you like a good criticism of capitalism, this play definitely also does that in addition to it’s larger themes of bodily autonomy and sexual trauma.
We open on a session between Ada, a worker, and Joan, her supervisor. They talk in a very pointed and calculated way that suggests extreme conformity and a lack of emotion that I initially interpreted as being a side effect of the work environment they inhabit. This isn’t NOT true, but it definitely goes deeper than that. Joan is trying to help Ada get to the bottom of why she crushed a coworker’s hand the previous week. The scene is very much like a strange therapy session, with Joan as the therapist and Ada as the patient, showing us a very strict power dynamic from the beginning. Joan is clearly in charge here, and not just because of her supervisor role.
Through the use of multiple questions, Joan tries in vane to get Ada to remember her attack on her coworker, with little results. Ada seems very distressed by the incident, and is unable to recall her thoughts, emotions, or any rationalizations she had during the event. During this questioning we learn a little more about Ada, such as how she likes the work of Andy Warhol and chatting with her coworker, Martha. But it always circles back to the same line of questioning: why did Ada become violent? Here, Ada discusses a nightmare she has been having of a mysterious man that takes total control of her, which seems to mystify Joan.
We then meet Richard, Joan’s boss, who inquires about Ada’s progress. They have a short and professional conversation, before we move into the pivotal second scene.
In this scene, Ada is alone in the dark. She calls out for Joan’s help when the faceless man from her dream appears, and it is revealed that the faceless man is Richard. Ada screams over and over again for help, and Richard tries to shut her up— eventually hitting her. He must hit her hard, because this “breaks” Ada, who begins to leak a mysterious black fluid. Richard grabs a screwdriver and insists that he’ll “fix her right up”.
It becomes clear after this that Ada is a machine, particularly a very sophisticated AI built by Joan.
The play from here asks a few fundamental questions of the viewer/reader:
If an AI becomes sentient, can it have trauma? Can it have boundaries and emotions, and therefore trauma responses?
If this happens, does that mean AI have rights? Are they people?
Should one Corporation really be able to dictate most of human life, even if it is in response to world-ending disaster?
In the end we really need to consider: who deserves what, and why?
Hemphill considers these questions carefully by exploring trauma and trauma responses; human rights discussions between two generations; and class differences. In the world of this play, the people who agree to work for the Company and essentially conform are able to live and work safely in this underground society. Everyone else, however? Everyone expendable? They are implied to be sent to live on the surface, where the barren world is destroyed by nuclear fallout and ever rising oceans. Pat and Joan are constantly reminding their daughter, Amy, of this fact when she brings up (very valid) concerns with how their society views human rights.
Now, I won’t reveal the ending to you, as I believe it is more effective if you go in blind. But needless to say, it packs a punch, and it will leave you with a lot to consider.
This isn’t necessarily a “horror” in the traditional sense, but Hemphill definitely creates a tense and occasionally eerie atmosphere that was essential to the audience understanding of the play’s message. I found that there were a few things that created this atmosphere of uncertainty— one, the unfolding mystery of who Ada really is (shown to us with a disturbing scene of her being physically assaulted, as opposed to being directly told); two, Richard’s public interactions with Ada, which Amy expresses concern about without voicing the words “sexual”, “inappropriate”, or “consent”; and three, Ada’s inability to recall details of the instances where she is violent.
Basically, Hemphill created that uncertain and eerie horror vibe by refusing to state things matter-of-factly, by making us as the audience come to the awful conclusions via the small nuggets that the characters reveal through unspoken words and occasionally disturbing actions.
There is a certain element of the unknown, of mystery, that is key to making an effective thriller or horror story. I know that may seem elementary, but sometimes these lessons seem to stick better, or make more sense, when they are discovered organically in the wild. At least, that’s what I’m discovering by writing these reviews!
I must remember, in writing my own eerie or horrific pieces, that keeping the audience in the dark (at least for a little while) is a large part of creating a sense of unease.
Here is my official recommendation of Ada on NPX:
An eerie sci-fi horror that manages to incite unease without any stereotypical "horror" tropes such as gore or jump scares. This play manages to discuss everything from sexual assault to the morality of AI to anti-capitalist views in a mere 87 pages. I found myself rooting for Ada, and Amy, making the ending all the more effective. A challenging work in the best way.
Have you read this play, or have something you want to say about it? Leave a comment below!
Here are three other works that excited me this week:
Chicken by Theresa Giacopasi
#GodHatesYou by Emily Dendinger
you do not look by Callan Stout
Want me to read one of the above plays, or have another suggestion? Let me know in the comments, by replying via email, or sending me a message on the SubStack app!
Happy writing!
~Brynn