Artificially Yours at Riverside Studios

Last week, Channel 4 News broadcast a report exploring the political risk of artificial intelligence, sharing a fabricated video of journalist Krishnan-Guru Murphy explaining a fake story about electoral tampering. His voice and manner had been copied by a software system, and whilst the quality seemed unbelievable, disinformation expert Marcus Beard explained that with just £100, the average person could generate ten hours of synthetic video and audio, which when spread across social media, could cause havoc with public perception of truth.

But what of the impact of growing artificial software on our personal lives and relationships? 21-year-old writer Aaron Tharak explores this question in his debut play Artificially Yours, showing at the Riverside Studios in Hammersmith. Press night is alive with sold-out anticipation, and audience members talk nervously about how their toxic relationships with technology might be exposed in the 95-minute comedy.

Leslie Ash’s Pippa sets the domestic scene in a somewhat lacklustre exposition. She chats to all-knowing AI software “Agapē” about her divorce from Paul Giddings’ Martin, questioning whether it is ok for him to introduce his hot new girlfriend, Ariel, to their teenage daughter. Two other young couples are outlined – Lilah and Ash (played by Thakar) and Ellie and Noah – with sitcom-esque shallowness, and their impression does not deepen as the play progresses. The quirks and foibles of the romances are sharpened through the lens of their relationship with the ever-present third party, Agapē. The software has collected data on the couples and can be turned to at any point for advice or to resolve quarrels, with the aim of the stability and betterment of the “primary users’” relationship.

Pippa, Ellie and Ash have a rather dependent relationship on the technological therapist, turning to it before letting their authentic reaction to a circumstance sink in. Martin, Noah and Lilah are more sceptical and even resentful of Agapē, though Martin does use it to score points in the somewhat contrived portrayal of middle-aged post-divorce sparring.

The play shines in its comedic scenes, such as when Thakar allows for dramatic tension between living characters at a Mexican-themed dinner party, rather than solo moments with the shining blue box. Perhaps that is a deliberate portrayal of the inauthenticity and sheer tedium of the technology that infiltrates our day-to-day lives so pervasively, and a refreshing reminder to actually see our friends face-to-face, no matter how awkward it can feel. However, apart from the unsettling suggestion of actor Ash selling his voice and image to the web for unfettered tinkering, the stakes for these characters’ relationship with Agapē feels too low for any genuinely thought-provoking revelations on the dangers of an AI-infested future.

Nevertheless, for a writer at such a tender age, Artificially Yours is a charming and witty debut, and Thakar makes one grateful for the joyous necessity of original work, even if it is a little messy around the edges.

Ellen Wilkinson
Images: Andrew Fosker

Artificially Yours is at Riverside Studios from 16^th until 21^st April 2024. For further information or to book visit the theatre’s website here.