One of the great pleasures of being a critic is seeing a new play that has the potential to shock. Revivals can’t do that and works that have been reviewed or have great word of mouth can’t do that. Way back in 1979, when Martin Sherman’s “Bent” opened on Broadway, Walter Kerr at the New York Times wrote of one scene: “I’m not going to describe an equally disturbing event that follows; the open sound of dismay that washed across the auditorium on the night I saw ‘Bent’ was one I have never quite heard before…”
For the same reason, I’m not going to describe the moment in Matthew Libby’s new play when we learn how an algorithm, designed as a college thesis to predict professional sports results, is going to be misused by a tech giant in Silicon Valley. Aptly titled “Data,” this first-rate moral thriller had its New York premiere Sunday at the Lucille Lortel Theatre after its December 2024 world premiere at D.C.’s Arena Stage.
As shockers go, the grizzly moment in “Bent” has a distinct advantage over the far less graphic one in “Data.” In Sherman’s play about Nazi-era Germany, Richard Gere’s gay character had sex with a female corpse to prove he’s heterosexual. In Libby’s play, it’s the topicality of the algorithm’s misuse that sends out strong frissons of acknowledgement in the audience, the kind of which I have heard before but not very often in the theater. Still, it’s entertaining to be genuinely surprised without the writer having to resort to lots of blood or a discussion of necrophilia.
Beyond the surprise that will not be detailed here, Libby vividly captures the angst of office politics: Who’s going to get “streamlined” next? How do I cover my ass, protect my job? We’ve all been there.
Best of all, Libby is a master at building suspense, and “Data” falls neatly into that category of thrillers about whistleblowers: How can the informer divulge the information to the press without being exposed?
To its credit, “Data” features not one but two whistleblowers: Maneesh (Karan Brar, being nervous and naive), the designer of the original algorithm, and Riley (Sophia Lillis, being nervous and jaded), an old friend from college who has been working on this new, top-secret project for a few months. If “Data” were a movie, and more about that later in this review, Maneesh and Riley would fall in love on their way to telling secrets to a reporter at the New York Times.
Libby’s dialogue is so staccato sharp that he keeps our interest without having to resort to a romance to muck things up. This talented playwright also brackets Maneesh and Riley’s central working relationship with two other characters that often steal the show from the two leads. Jonah (Brandon Flynn) is the tech bro who is admittedly several I.Q. levels under Maneesh and Riley, and therefore spells trouble. And Alex (Justin H. Min) is the tech guru whom everybody idolizes. Flynn and Min play wildly different villains who come at evil from opposing circles of hell.
Tyne Rafaeli’s direction delivers these great performances, but she hasn’t disguised what “Data” appears to be: a screenplay. Marsha Ginsberg’s silver metallic box set is the essence of high-tech sterility. Office furniture occasionally shows up, as well as a ping pong table. It’s a simple but effective scenic design, but Rafaeli overcomplicates it with blackouts between the scenes, punctuated with sinister music and sound effects (by Daniel Kluger) and a proscenium that pulsates with flashing lights (by Amith Chandrashaker).
Rafaeli uses ping pong to give “Data” an ending that Libby, to his discredit, hasn’t really provided. Again, if this were a movie, “Data” would end up with the presses rolling and a banner headline that, most likely, would be placed under the fold, if not on page two or three. Even that would probably not be enough. I guessed this play’s non-ending minutes before the curtain came down. If nothing else, M. Night Shyamalan has taught us that’s a problem.
