By John Lyle Belden

I remember when The Year 2000 was used to reference the future. Now it’s history.

In movies and literature – ever since the play that gave us the word “robot” – we imagined living side by side with technology. Now it autonomously delivers our packages. We hold conversations with computers.

From this world of tomorrow swiftly becoming today comes “Your Name Means Dream,” by Josè Rivera, presented by Jewish Theatre Bloomington.

Aislin (Diane Kondrat) lives alone in New York’s East Village. Every conversation with her adult son results in an argument, so her grandkids no longer visit. Out of concern for her advancing age, declining health, and the fact she washes down her prescriptions with Jack Daniels, he has sent her a state-of-the-art assistant, Stacy (Valerie C. Kilmer), which looks like a young woman but is a synthetic robot body with an AI brain.

“I am beautiful and creepy.”

After a wild (for them) and funny (for us) start, Aislin gradually comes to accept the presence of this talking “toaster” that says it wants to help her live a fuller life, soon seeing “it” as “her.” Taking on those improvements, especially losing the bottle of Jack, is another matter.  

Under the careful direction of Martha Jacobs, both actors take characters that we would have issues with and make them strangely charming.

During a talkback afterward Kondrat said, smiling, that this may be the most F-bombs she’s ever had to utter in a single script. While consistently profane, Aislin is not always angry. She does express frustration at her life, her son, and the loss of her husband years ago, and herself, as well as her faux-human companion. However, moments of introspection slip through, as well as compassion at the prospect of actual loss. Those who are familiar with the addicted can see the contradictions of personality here. While her internal circuitry is biological, she is also subject to “glitching” in her own way.

Kilmer delivers an outstanding performance, never breaking character though as Stacy “learns” her movement becomes more fluid and she even picks up some of Aislin’s colorful language. With her perfect memory, we get a lot of callback references that work with the story. To be purely robotic, though not a trained dancer, Kilmer credits an acting class in which she was encouraged to practice isolating individual parts of her body, creating the notion that under-skin servos rather than smooth muscles control her movement. In preparing, she said she paid close to herself and considered how to remove the human element from each action or expression. This precision also shows in full-body character work as she mimics both the movement and voice of Aislin’s son when they communicate through Stacy’s phone app.

While there are some hilarious interactions, there is the underlying stress natural to a situation in which an AI-controlled machine that can bench-press hundreds of pounds and has no soul (the AOS [“Approximation of Soul”] upgrade comes in her next model, she says) is alone with a person with fragile body and mind. Aside from malfunction, there is a risk of hacking by the Skinjobs anti-robot organization.

Post-show discussion brought out various reactions to this engaging and thought-provoking play. While they address serious aspects of technology providing personal assistance for the elderly and differently abled, a process well under way in the off-stage world, there was also genuine affection for the comic interaction between the curmudgeon and the android. Some comments declared this a sort of 21^st-century “Odd Couple.”

I personally saw the deeper questions posed by films such as “Blade Runner,” questions of identity and self, both among humans and those programed to emulate them. This was reflected in Stacy’s relating a sort of muscle-memory of a previous, very different, “life.” The policy of her maker, the tech corporation Singularity, is to completely eliminate its imprinted identity after use so that the unit can be refitted for whatever service the next customer wants. “I will not outlive you.”

Though Aislin is Irish-Croation and Catholic, and Stacy allegedly soulless, the board of Jewish Theatre of Bloomington felt this is an important work to bring to the public due to its examination of identity and humanity. As the human character puts it, “I contain multitudes, bitch!”

We are grateful for the opportunity to experience this.

Remaining performances are Saturday and Sunday, May 16-17, at the Waldron Rose Firebay theater, 122 S. Walnut St., Bloomington. They are technically sold out, but tickets might become available. Information at jewishtheatrebloomington.com.