Playwright Max Wolf Friedlich mines Chekov the moment the lights come up in JOB. A young woman stands firm, pointing a gun at a middle-aged man. Will it go off in Act Two? Since this taut ninety-minute thriller has no act two—and I’m not a spoiler—you’ll have to find out for yourself.
What I will reveal is that Jane, the young woman brandishing the gun, is the most intriguing theatrical character I’ve encountered in a long time. She’s crazy and impulsive, well-heeled and well-educated, articulate and babbling, confusing and confused, yet her extremes are so finely wrought she’s never caricature. She is simultaneously a complete individual while representing the full spectrum of Millennial attitude and angst. Her perspectives on being human in a digital world enthralled me. Jane‘s an amazingly conceived character, beautifully brought to life by Josephine Moshiri Elwood, despite being decked out in the ugliest pair of pants ever to grace a stage.
Here’s the plot that matters. Jane works as a content moderator for an unnamed internet behemoth in San Francisco in 2020. She spends her days watching and flagging objectionable content to spare the rest of us the trauma. Unfortunately, her own trauma boils over and she has a very public breakdown at her job, which is, of course, videoed and uploaded and, of course, goes viral. The ever-sensitive behemoth does not sack her. Rather, it sends her for a psychological evaluation with a middle-aged male therapist. The object of her gun barrel in the opening salvo.
The play takes place in real time as their appointment proceeds.
Aside from Jane, the play, or at least this production, is fraught with problems. Dennis Trainor, Jr. does an admirable job portraying Loyd, the therapist. Unfortunately, Loyd is not nearly as interesting as his wily patient. For starters, he’s inappropriate as a therapist from the opening moment by how he deals with the gun. The character only grows less convincing over time, sharing more with this first-time client than any therapist would ever do. In every way that Jane is well-tuned, Loyd is tone deaf; a cardboard hippie all grown up, complete with paunch and greying beard. If the Boomer was as well-conceived as the Millennial, what sparks could fly!
The special effects are also odd. Blinking lights and weird noises reorient our pair into other voices, other rooms. I’m a pretty attentive audience member, but the point of these distractions eluded me. Why does the playwright keeps taking us out of the ongoing action with bits that never coalesce or contribute? Beats me.
And then there’s the set. The script is clear that the set be a therapist office, San Francisco, 2020, even to the point of adding that it is to be a literal, not liminal, space. Speakeasy is true to his requirement. One glance and it’s clear we’re eavesdropping in a therapist’s office. The problem with this, for me, is that since I don’t buy Loyd as a legitimate therapist from the opening gambit, therefore I don’t buy that this is a ‘realistic’ conversation between patient and therapist, therefore I see no need for such a literal set.
In fact, I want the liminal space that the playwright’s notes prohibit. I want Loyd to be unburdened from his ‘profession.’ I want him to be the Boomer equivalent of Jane, so full of his era’s inconsistencies that he can be both individual and representative. Given the big reveal at the end (which I will not reveal) there are myriad ways Jane could connive an encounter with Loyd. Making him a therapist is, frankly, too easy.
So, given all my misgivings, should you go to see JOB? Absolutely! Jane is so incredibly written and convincingly performed, she alone is worth overlooking all other shortcomings.
The Awkward Pose 