Upon entering MadLab for Alex Dremann’s The Invisible Play, one encounters the epitome of functionality. The office set is a perfect tribute to the sterile corporate world that favors productivity, designed brilliantly by Brendan Michna. Music sets the melancholy mood that one feels at three in the afternoon as they question their life at their desk. In short, the atmosphere proves perfect for the evening ahead.
Meet Colin, a man who for seven plus years worked quietly at a publisher of existential books. In basic interactions, it grows apparent that Colin is fading—fading away from the minds and memories of all around him. As this fading continues, soon Colin becomes invisible to everyone else in his chic office. Everyone, except for of course, the other invisible people. Colin and his new acquaintances, the other long-forgotten workers of the publishing company, spend the rest of the show trying to make him visible again by attracting the affections of his coworker, Fran, and questioning life.
Erik Sternberger plays an aloofly sad Colin. The man that seems nonchalant about most matters, but inside brims with anxiety and loneliness. Watching his performance conjures up thoughts of Thoreau’s famed line, “Most men live lives of quiet desperation…”. Katharine Pilcher plays a graceful Fran, unsure of her goals, her marriage, and her career. The two pair nicely together, yet Michelle Batt stands out as the emphatically real Ramona, an other, who chose long ago to become invisible. She, unnoticed by everyone else, cared for the plants in the office for years and introduces Colin to the world of invisibility in a pragmatically blunt and beautiful way.
Overall, the show bubbled with energy of the vapid simplicity of a human that many choose to show the world. Small talk, catty conversations, and “witty” remarks abound from the visible members of the office, played by Chad Hewitt, Shana Kramer, and Megan Corbin. Director Andy Batt excels at highlighting the absurdity of that office, especially the ridiculousness of mass lay-offs, yet several promotions. He hones a heady script into a focused show filled with queries and few answers. On the first preview, the transitions dragged a bit, which made the show feel long. Hopefully, they can quicken those throughout the run.
The Invisible Play offers a night of reflection along with some laughs. To end, I mention a quote that clung to me as the audience left the space, “You can’t believe what you can see if no one can see you.” Choose to attend The Invisible Play with another individual and enjoy an evening of tantalizing conversation.
The Invisible Play performs until September 14, at MadLab, 277 N. Third Street. Fri-Sat. at 8 pm. Tickets $12; Students/seniors $10.
More information can be found online at Madlab.net or at 614-221-5418.