REVIEW: John Doe (Keegan Theatre)
A lot can happen in nine years.
Life takes turns, inspiration creeps in, and an initial 10-minute scene can become a fully-fledged play by one of the most charismatic local theatres around. That’s essentially how John Doe, the latest world premiere at Dupont Circle’s Keegan Theatre, came to be. After a near-decade gestation, a full production of Angelle Whavers’ commission has now hit Church Street for a two-week run.
Book
In the play, we follow Zia, an aggressively agoraphobic woman who suffers extreme panic attacks by so much as ordering coffee at the downstairs cafe. Everything else in her life incidentally happens in the immediate surrounds of her barren apartment; groceries et. al are delivered, and her sole comfort is the daily call with her mother, who makes jabs about her daughters’ social life to Zia’s chagrin. But Zia seems to have justification for this behavior: her brother was killed in a car accident some years prior, and it effectively shut her social processing down for good.
So when a random man shows up in her apartment one day, panic understandably ensues. The kicker? Only Zia’s panicking, because she’s the only one who can see him — a ghost.
Though it enters with this warmly ironic premise, the result is more than a bit chilly. The ghost, (John) Doe, is who drags the story along as he ropes Zia into solving his death. Even despite the ultimately underwhelming conclusion to this thread, Doe’s personality never quite clicks. His childish demeanor is obviously meant to reflect a sibling dynamic between the two, but the means by which Whavers achieves this — cheeky epithets like “flesh nugget”, “air-stealer”, for example—only end up feeling like a 2009 Disney Channel sitcom, and all the dated reactions that would come with it. The adventure that the two travel along creates the opportunity for several memorable character interactions that, too, are out of place. Some perennially funny archetypes make appearances, such as a raggedy cab (a “cab” in 2026?) driver and a bureaucrat that hides more than she lets on, but neither seem to hit the mark. Their writing remains not funny enough to evoke a chuckle, nor dramatic enough to think of them as anything beyond filler…nor outright bad enough to leave a lasting negative impression, either. These supporting roles, and the larger plot motivations, feel as though they were devised from a slab of ideas that sprung up throughout the lengthy development but were never chiseled into finer narrative architecture.
Though let me note that Whavers does create a protagonist worth rooting for. One can’t help but feel sorry for Zia’s ails; it never feels like she’s happy being this antisocial. She even has a budding romance with another character (who themselves shows promise of memorability, but isn’t featured enough), whose fate is central to the climax of the 90-minute play. But by the time we get to this point, it remains unclear what we, or Zia, have to do with all these puzzle pieces. 2/10
Acting
Though it doesn’t help that their textual platforms are flim-flam, I didn’t find the performances strong enough to stand on their own legs, either. Tepid performances felt un-confident throughout the show; the real characters trapped within teetering carbon prison. The notable exception to this was Ariana Caldwells’s Zia. As the anchor of the show, Caldwell’s turn was tepid in the right ways, showing a smart balance between communicative fear and headstrong confidence that tries to emerge through the cracks. 2/10
Production
The direction of John Doe shows apparent technical skill, with room for far more creativity. The staging is mostly a collection of bare, white slabs, only decorated with superbly detailed projections by Jeremy Bennett. But the good news? The Keegan’s revolve, which I’m unabashedly a sucker for, is utilized greatly via a central “slab” split into radial thirds. Scene transitions thus feel natural, and the lighting (by Niya John) complements everything very well. As do the costumes by Anya Peregrino, though I had questions as to why Doe is dressed like he’s from the 70’s. 6/10
Viz
The projections are a good enough indicator to set the scene, which opens in a graveyard. The lack of any pre-show ambience outside of that is even particularly eerie, but in a colder manner than the show generally feels. Meanwhile, key art is excellent, even if it requires more than a glance to appreciate it. Zia is taking a selfie with Doe behind her, but Doe isn’t in the camera preview. It’s a clever choice that is an acute means of showing their “relationship.” 7/10
Verdict
John Doe tangles its ideas together early on, without figuring out a way to unravel it by the show’s end, dampening the potential creativity that lies beneath. 17/40
