Sometimes you see something that sticks in your brain so long it makes you see everything else differently. That was what Dennis delivered to me on a warm Friday in June. It was my first show after moving to New York, and while some might push you away from entering mysterious doorways on Canal St, Dennis lures you in.
A stunning and unpredictable production led by a small but mighty cast. Written and directed by Aidan La Poche, Dennis is based on the Greek tragedy, The Bacchae by Euripides, about Dionysus, the god of wine, frenzy, and ecstasy, who returns to Thebes disguised as a charismatic stranger, and Pentheus, a young prince who refuses to acknowledge Dionysus as a god and tries to suppress his cult, who have been driven into a frenzy by Dionysus.
About his choice to use The Bacchae as inspiration, La Poche said this: “I think what drew me to The Bacchae was Euripides’ depiction of ecstasy and transformation, particularly the way he renders the chorus’s descent into divine mania. The language is visceral, physical, and charged with a sense of liberation,” he continued. “There’s something embedded in both texts about ecstasy as a mode of resistance, and about how certain bodies are permitted, or compelled, to transcend the limitations imposed on them, even if that transcendence is destabilizing or dangerous. I was struck by how contemporary that idea felt, despite the fact that the play is literally ancient.”
Despite its inspiration, the play serves as a beautiful adaptation that thrives completely in its own right, repurposing a classic Greek tragedy into a remarkable modern must-see.
In this iteration, Dionysus is Dennis, a charismatic, seemingly all-knowing AI chatbot, who is quickly amassing an ever-growing online following to the dismay of online therapist, Emily.
Similar to the famous tragedy, the show utilizes out-of-the-box theatrics, including dancing and soliloquies. Giving the audience the chance to soak in every emotion, feeling, and decision fully and personally. “I thought it would be compelling and funny to reimagine him as an AI chatbot, one we never see and never fully understand. It wasn’t until I really started working on the play that I realized people falling in love with chatbots isn’t speculative fiction; it’s already a real phenomenon” said La Poche
Dennis takes a unique approach to the topic of AI, it is filled with the ubiquity of a fast-growing Artificial Intelligence, yet the confusion and necessity of connection, Intimacy, and comfort.
It doesn’t paint the characters as incapable or caricatures of one side versus the other. And instead allows the narrative space for both sides of the conversation. It makes judgments, but not without a full understanding of each character’s motives.
The play starts with its characters lined up on stage, all sitting next to each other waiting for what seems like an awakening, and for the rest of the runtime, not a moment is wasted. As the show goes on, it becomes more and more unraveled, but that’s the beauty of it, watching the fall into madness.
Aidan La Poche sets up a compelling and nuanced perspective into the modern-day human struggle, and the cast takes every opportunity to remind the audience of the heart behind every screen.
Working for an online therapy company, employees Emily, played by Talia Godfrey, and Robert, played by Patrick Alwyn, struggle with the approaching effects of AI and its effect on their patients. Among the ensemble are Penelope, Judy, Shredder, and TJ, played by Jo Allen, Olivia Vitarelli, Sophie Sherlock, and Brennan Keeley, respectively. Portraying infatuated quasi-followers/lovers to the overly alluring AI Dennis. And to round out the cast, Anna, played by Luci Dunham, depressed and withdrawn girlfriend of Emily, who takes comfort in the Dennis chatbot, much to the displeasure of her partner.
This ensemble shines, from the creepy chaos in Vitarelli’s Judy, pushing forward the chaos of Dennis’ online rein, to the calm yet destructive complacency in Alwyn’s Robert, who goes on a complicated journey with the ups and downs of AI. They all inhabited such different circumstances despite the closeness they’ve shared, much like in today’s online spheres with Far-right rhetoric in gaming chat rooms, or overly dedicated “stans”, the addictive online sensation of feeling seen often borders on feeling watched. Judy’s childlike amusement is not far from the obsessive nature of online culture, and yet, instead of making fun of the archetype of the obsessive teen, we’re reminded of how easy it is to be drawn in by someone or something, promising belonging.
La Poche says, “The play was really tailored to each of them (The actors), and the process was very specific to this ensemble of people.” He continued, “I wrote scenes as we rehearsed, building the world around them.”
He ends with “I think that mystery really allowed each of them to build their own internal logic—how they feel about Dennis, why they fall in love with him, and what he represents to them personally.”
Between Godfrey and Dunham, the two bring out a devastating passion in both characters' journeys. While Emily tries to get Anna out of her depression, Anna is unable to truly confide in and open up to her. The two don’t touch or even make eye contact, yet Godfrey and Dunham both bring to life the pain of outreach, both sides of wanting to help and needing help. Their performances are truly mesmerizing.
I think my favorite moment was during Anna’s (Dunham) monologue.
You could hear the room shift, and in a quiet, groundbreaking way, the entire room felt the pain she was feeling. The suffering that comes with loneliness, and the longing for not just connection, but true, unbiased understanding; something not guaranteed by friends or loved ones, something frightening to want and even more so to beg for, it makes you understand why it is so easy to fall for Dennis, and at the same time proves why humans are so important. AI could never understand that loneliness, but that audience, hanging on to every word because they themselves have probably thought a variation of it, they understand.
And the play really comes to a head in the last act.
Without any spoilers, Dunham delivers a visceral performance in the final scene. She is a force of nature, and joined by Godfrey and Alwyn, they leave us with a bittersweet finale. It doesn’t rely on gore or an elaborate setting; it’s in Dennis’ simplicity that you feel the pain. With a swiftness that takes you by surprise, even when you begin to realize how this ending might unfold, you can’t help but focus on the beating heart that arises from this show.
“I wanted the play to feel as fun and alive as possible. A lot of the process was about thinking how to direct people’s attention: how to keep them engaged, surprised, maybe even a little disoriented.” said La Poche
Dennis is depicted as A “god”, all-powerful, all-knowing, and all-consuming. Yet it’s never personified or strayed away from; it is simply an AI, but La Poche makes sure we understand just how consequential believing, or not believing, in AI’s power can be. From start to finish, you are surrounded by Dennis’s presence.
Dennis leans into its prop design, often allowing for each choice to be highlighted in contrast to the empty stage. It also does an interesting job at utilizing tech elements to really push forward the importance of technology in this show, having cameras set up on the stage, giving us deeper perspectives and angles into these characters. When asked about how they went about cultivating this, La Poche said this: “Dennis is everywhere and nowhere, just out of reach but always watching. We had the actors perform as if they were speaking directly to Dennis, and through the website, you can spy on that interaction. It’s designed to feel like you’re accessing something secret or forbidden, like you’ve tapped into the world of the play before it even begins.”
They take an intersting tech approach, both in it’s marketing and production, (when you go online to buy tickets you are also shown clips of the characters from Dennis’ POV) “Our producer, Sadie Schlesinger, determined we needed a Dennis website, so she asked Pearl Marden, who also designs the Dennis text in the show, to see if she could code something that matched the tone of the piece.” Said La Poche. “The idea was to make the ticket-buying process feel like part of the experience, not just a transaction. It can be difficult to get people to care about theater, especially new work, so we wanted the marketing to feel just as strange, playful, and immersive as the show itself.” He continued.
Because Dennis often combines tech elements into the storytelling, it feeds its audience a lively view into their world. My favorite use of this is the conversation between Emily and Dennis, a scary tennis match of sorts, when she finally comes head-to-head with the chatbot.
“I think I was also trying to draw as much from the kind of fractured attention and low-grade ennui that comes from doom scrolling. I tried to abstract that on stage, letting the world feel both sparse and overwhelming, quiet and simple in some moments, and then suddenly chaotic, like everything is happening all at once” stated La Poche.
The characters dress in all white, serving as an almost blank canvas with an all white stage, and in an all white room, we can’t help but be in focus to the cleanliness that is happening, so anytime anything of opposition is introduced to us, we are immediately met with an understanding. To these characters, Dennis brings color into their life.
“I also loved inviting Pearl, Eloise Moulton (costume designer), and Kobi Masselli (sound and lighting designer) to bring their own associations into the design of the play, and to craft the world together,” says La Poche. “This gave me and the rest of the creative team a lot of freedom to play as we built the world of the play. It was exciting to merge my ideas, like Dennis singing “Stupid Hoe” by Nicki Minaj or weaving in ‘80s prom nostalgia, with the more serious textual investigations at the core of the piece.”
AI, a growing force in our age, is often met with total complicity or refusal. I, for one, am not in favor of what often feels like a takeover of professions or emotions. Dennis, however, gave me a new perspective.
I never understood why someone might choose computer to person, but the way La Poche approaches the answer with grace is something I admittedly didn’t take into account before; that the feeling of having someone, or something, understand you transcends the loneliness our generation often finds itself in.
Dennis isn’t fixated on force feeding you the right or wrongs of AI or mental illness, but instead allows you to look at other sides, and fly judgments out the window.
“The message of The Bacchae is pretty ambivalent. It doesn’t end with a clear moral takeaway, which was something I wanted to carry into Dennis. I didn’t want the play to feel like I was moralizing or trying to dictate how we should feel about AI. I was more interested in exploring how something like a chatbot can exploit or challenge our understanding of love and connection.” Said LaPoche
The play illustrates a part of the human experience so universal yet untalked about: loneliness.
It’s why it's so easy for Dennis, AI, social media, and all the other toxic pleasures to grab on to us. It’s built and made for you, its only job is to know you and serve you, and in return you never leave.
Often our loneliness feels solitary, but with Dennis, La Poche reminds us we are not alone.
La Poche understands Gen-Z's loneliness in a bold way, one that isn’t captured in many places I’ve seen. He has a unique ability to call out the numerous ways we often distract or numb ourselves in favor of pleasure, whether through shopping, social media, love, or possession.
La Poche takes the ways we hide in our loneliness, and reminds us that that pain is deeply, deeply human, no matter what computer might try to convince you otherwise.
Even after the show, the flurry of excitement through the crowd was tangible. To see such power and authenticity was moving, not only in the performances but in the text. La Poche has a knack for emotionally knocking the wind out of me, in the characters' changing monologues each balance a humor and pain unique to their struggles that open the audience up more and more right up to the end, with one final swing we feel the weight of wanting someone to see you, notice your hurt, and more shamefully, fix us.
After the show there was much introspection to be done, I sat with my thoughts downtown, various conversations about AI floating in, one girl using it only to help with studying because it’s more ethical that way, her friend condemning her, I thought back to the dynamic between Emily and Anna, and on my phone I scrolled away my thoughts, entering my own cycle of satisfaction and destruction and the first thing to hit my fyp, a tweet about Kim kardashins advice from chatgpt. The For You page never misses a beat.
The appeal of ease is more and more compelling as we are pushed into an AI-dominated world; it’s slowly becoming unescapable, and Dennis shines a light on just how detrimental the illusion of artificial charm can be.
There’s no doubt in my mind that this play is worth watching; it is raw, messy, and inspired.
In all honesty, if I could, I would have seen it again, but the show sold out during its first run. But now, as they prepare for their next run this November, I hope you will go see Dennis with anticipation and openness. Allow yourself to be seen in these complex dimensional characters, may all of Dennis’ weirdness find you and welcome you in the way all good art does.
Tickets are available here for their upcoming one-night-only run on November 25th.
