“Every culture has a flood myth,” says the billionaire who sees himself as a modern-day Noah in Raven Theatre’s world premiere of “brother sister cyborg space,” a play by Paul Michael Thomson. On an Earth that is months away from becoming uninhabitable, Elon (not that Elon) is planning to transport 1,000 of the best and brightest humans to colonies on the moon and Mars. The only problem? His beloved half-sister, an environmental justice activist named Giselle, has just sabotaged the energy provider that his spaceship needs for liftoff.
It’s a fine premise for a play that blends science fiction, family drama and Biblical allusions to explore themes of climate change, artificial intelligence, the future of humanity and the relationship between science and religion. However, Thomson mostly rehashes familiar ideas from the genre of science fiction without raising many new questions or perspectives. While the dialogue has the potential for a crisp two-hander, the plot lags as the characters keep pausing to make direct addresses to the audience that are often a bit on the nose. In other words, the script would benefit from the old “show, don’t tell” adage.
Directed by Terry Guest, Matt Bowdren and Brittney Brown star as Elon and Giselle, who have always been close despite their divergent political views. They still call each other “Sissy” and “Bubba,” and shared memories pop up in their conversations throughout the play. Elon, the younger sibling, is anxious and emotional, while Giselle is decisive and blunt. Despite his connections to union busters and big oil, Elon is presented to the audience as Giselle sees him — a somewhat benevolent billionaire, or at least, one who is willing to bankroll his activist sister.
Tensions rise when Elon tells Giselle of his plan to save a fraction of humanity and asks her to help him build a utopian society on Mars. She questions who decided which people would have a place on his interplanetary lifeboat and what the selection criteria were. Things escalate to the point that Giselle accuses Elon of eugenics — and this is before she discovers an even darker side of the plan that reveals just how much her baby brother is playing God.
Through the siblings’ interactions, Thomson probes how families respond to political polarization — a timely theme for 2024, to be sure — but I wanted the play to go deeper here. In one of her monologues, Giselle muses about the complexities of loving someone whose views are so at odds with hers, but we don’t really feel what these differences cost when the stakes are ratcheted up.
In addition to the sister-brother duo, there’s a third character in the form of Elon’s virtual assistant, Ava, voiced by Charence Higgins. Early on, she interjects sassy comments and shares some funny moments with the fussy billionaire who’s always asking her to play calming music to quell his rising panic. Ava eventually becomes a major player in the unfolding drama, and her storyline examines what it means to be human in a time when artificial intelligence is rapidly advancing. She’s the catalyst for some interesting plot twists, but as someone who’s watched many seasons of “Doctor Who,” I found myself thinking, “Yes … and?”
I did enjoy this show’s production design, which straddles Elon’s privileged terrestrial existence and the ethereal grandeur of space. Steven Abbott’s sleek set depicts Elon’s home with the modern minimalism you’d expect from a billionaire, but the crushed velvet texture of the gray walls adds a touch of warmth. Two sliding panels upstage evoke the rough, red surface of Mars. Behind them, projections by Michael Salvatore Commendatore — which include beautiful images of outer space — serve as visual aids to the characters’ monologues. Levi Wilkins’ lighting design uses blue and purple to enhance the space theme and occasionally employs striking floodlights trained on the audience to shroud key scenes in mystery.
Although I’m no sci-fi expert, I left the theater wishing that “brother sister cyborg space” contributed more to conversations that writers in this genre have been having for decades. Many of the themes are timely, and the performers make a fine team, but for me, this space play didn’t really lift off.
Review: “brother sister cyborg space” (2 stars)
When: Through March 17
Where: Raven Theatre, 6157 N. Clark St.
Running time: 1 hour, 25 minutes
Tickets: $45 at www.raventheatre.com
