Jacob McNeal (Robert Downey Jr.) is a bitter though successful, middle aged novelist, widower, philanderer, and functional alcoholic. According to his frustrated doctor, Saha Grewal (Ruthie Ann Miles), if he doesn’t stop drinking, her patient is three months from liver failure. McNeal appears not to care. His sole concern this and every October is whether he wins the Nobel Prize for Literature – to which he feels entitled. He asks ChatGBT who will garner the award.
The novelist wins, yet shows no signs of pleasure or satisfaction. A giant projection of his face (shades of The Wizard of Oz) and glimpses of distinguished audience precede the victor’s provocative, live acceptance speech. There are two subjects on his mind, AI and death. He informs the Swedish Academy that three books currently on The New York Times Best Seller list were written by Artificial Intelligence and admits to having run his speech by it. “You’ll be pleased I didn’t prefer its version….In none of the three books does the protagonist die. AI knows we don’t like death.” ChatGBT emerges as the serpent in the garden, offering valuable help/information in exchange for amorality.
Robert Downey Jr. (McNeal); Andrea Martin (Stephie Banic)
As of February 2024, there were over two hundred e-books on Amazon’s Kindle store listing CHatGPT as author or co-author. There’s even a new sub-genre: Books about using ChatGPT written entirely by ChatGPT. (Reuters)
McNeal begins his next project by uploading a roster of material including: King Lear, Madame Bovary, borderline personality disorders, Oedipus Rex, and Kafka’s Letter to My Father. “Please rework these texts in the style of Jacob McNeal,” he types. (We see this on screen.) The web site Grammerly instructs: Everything you write has a tone…tailor your wording to your audience so you can come across exactly as you intend. As if today, direct plagiarism can be detected with a special program but rephrasing//writing in specific personal style, cannot.
Long time agent Stephie Banic (Andrea Martin) is, of course, thrilled with McNeal’s accomplishment. She roams the impressive office negotiating with her client’s publisher,emphatically gesturing as if he were in the room. The author enters, offhandedly mentioning his“pissing brown.” He dismisses her concerns. Reasoning behind revisions (what agent helps edit?) is smart and relevant dropping names of familiar authors.
Robert Downey Jr. (McNeal); Natasha Brathwaite (Brittany Bellizaire)
Offered a New York Times Magazine profile, the novelist first refuses, undeniably wary of what might come to light. He’s additionally leery of a contract addendum referring to use of AI. Banic sees the red flag, but eye on the prize asks no questions. McNeal is talked into the interview. Hostile journalist Natasha Brathwaite (Brittany Bellizeare) finds herself surprised to like the subject. Though flip and demeaning, he’s slickly honest.
Meanwhile, estranged son Harlan (Rafi Gavron) asks to meet. Harlan holds McNeal responsible for his mother’s suicide – which sounds plausible in the telling. He confronts dad with a discovery that will ruin him. In turn, the author confronts Harlan with information about the young man’s past. Guilt hangs over the room like a storm cloud.
Robert Downey Jr. (McNeal) and Rafi Gavron (Harlan McNeal)
McNeal deteriorates to the point of hallucination due to continued drinking on top of medication.This surreal parenthesis includes a telling face-off with ex-lover Francine Blake (Melora Hardin), and a gathering of all the women who affect his life – much like Guido Santini in the musical Nine. It could successfully be shorter.
Melora Hardin (Francine Blake) and Robert Downy Jr. (McNeal)
Robert Downey Jr. seems as comfortable on stage as he does on film. I had occasion to see the play twice, one over a week before writing, and found his portrayal even more specific and assured. The company is consistently fine. Andrea Martin is, as always, a distinct pleasure to watch. Brittany Bellizeare (reporter), Ravi Gavron (son), and Melora Hardin (ex-lover Francine Blake) are especially authentic.
Bartlett Sher’s direction of actors is deft, as is his use of the stage. Integration of video, if ultimately inordinate, works to unnerve and enhance.
Robert Downey Jr. (McNeal) and the Company
Jake Barton’s projections – giant talking heads, background scenery (both the skyline and McNeal’s apartment view are splendid), real time texts, and atmospheric textures covering the entire stage like digital plague – begin wry and progress to overwhelming. Excess dims actual drama at the end.
Sets by Michael Yeargan and Jake Barton offer seamlessly morphing components creating well appointed rooms, a detailed lodge, and psychotropic park. Leaving open a large crevice from which scenery previously rose is wonderfully provocative. Jennifer Moeller’s Costumes are just right.
Playwright Ayad Akhtar, himself a Pulitzer Prize winner, has written one of the first of what will undoubtedly be an increasing number of plays addressing the infiltration of AI and CharGPT. His hero is a contrivance by which he examines an as yet insoluble issue. This is not to say we don’t care, rather that the protagonist’s trajectory runs second to overall theme. McNeal justifies his use of ChatPGT by pointing out Shakespeare plagiarized his own earlier plot for that of King Lear. How many times has Romeo and Juliet been rewritten? Some poaching has always been acceptable. There are particulars, nuances.
Writing is eloquent and clever; the last extraordinary speech, Shakespearean. (Was it perhaps ChatGPT generated?) My companion, who had next to no knowledge of the programs in question, managed to understand their capacity sufficiently to enjoy and be intrigued by the play.
You’ll have a great deal to discuss over drinks.
Photos by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman
McNeal by Ayad Akhtar
Directed by Bartlett Sher
Through November 24, 2024
Lincoln Center Theater at The Vivian Beaumont
150 West 65th Street
There’s a link on the website for a lottery to win a $48 ticket.
