Octet, Studio Theatre, Washington, DC

 

Amelia Aguilar, David Toshiro Crane (back to camera), Chelsea Williams, Tracy Lynn Olivera, and Angelo Harrington II in Octet at Studio Theatre. Photo by Margot Schulman.

If ever there were a musical that was “of the moment,” Dave Malloy’s intimate a cappella chamber musical Octet is it. Currently on stage in an intimate production in the Victor Shargai space at Washington’s Studio Theatre, Octet allows us to observe eight adults meeting as an addiction support group for what well may be the most common contemporary (and often denied) addiction:  the Internet (referred to as “the Monster” by the characters).

The audience is subjected to what some may call a bit of separation anxiety before the play begins: prior to entering the theatre, audience members must power down their own devices and place them in a locked pouch that the theatregoer maintains possession of until exiting the theatre. “But what will they do during intermission?” is not an issue, since the musical, which lasts approximately 100 minutes, is performed without one.

In fact, the play begins before the play begins, in a way. Octet is performed arena style. The primary set is a flexible, octagonal platform that holds a couple of tables and a few chairs, but around the periphery, in the same space as the first row of audience members, are tables with lamps, brochures, and on one, even some refreshments. Gradually, the audience recognizes that several people have entered the room who are not audience members: two of the actors come in carrying umbrellas, which were definitely not needed on the sub-freezing day of the performance I attended.

Each of the actors makes a point of locking their phones as they enter the space. The tables on the stage are replaced by eight chairs, facing the center of the platform.

Instead of a 12-step support group, we are watching a meeting of the 8-step “Friends of Saul,” who is named but never seen. Two of the members appear to be more seasoned than the others; one is attending for the first time. The newest and apparently youngest member, Velma, is late (we can’t help but notice that only seven of the chairs are occupied before her entrance). Paula, the most experienced and quasi-leader, leads the group in “Hymn: The Forest,” which begins the ritualized process. (Note: The play’s program, unfortunately, does not list the names of the songs. I relied on other reviews and the Wikipedia entry for the show for that information, as well as a cast recording from its 2019 off-Broadway that I found on YouTube.)

Amelia Aguilar, Chelsea Williams, Aidan Joyce, and Ana Marcu in Octet. Photo by Margot Schulman.

Most, if not all, of the characters use pitch pipes before launching into their solos. As you might expect, each character, in turn, sings about their own case of addiction, with vocal support from the remaining characters. The absent orchestral musicians are missed at first, but by the third or fourth number, their absence is forgotten. The eight voices are distinctive but blend beautifully to create a consistent sound, sometimes supplemented by rhythms created by clapping, thigh-slapping, or drumming on set pieces.

The characters are:

Jessica (played by Chelsea Williams) who is what we would call a “content creator,” perhaps an “influencer.” She recounts the humiliation after an online meltdown.

Henry (Angelo Harrington II) is up next. His addiction seems somewhat comic at first: a gamer, all the games he liked began with “candy,” which seems to have been somewhat innocent. But it has taken over his life.

Paula (Tracy Lynn Olivera) recounts how separated she and her husband have become based on their individual addictions to the glow of their screens.

Karly (Ana Marcu) and Ed (Jimmy Kieffer) present their separate romantic/sexual experiences online, commenting on the proliferation of online pornography, which seems a root cause of their frustration.

Toby (Aidan Joyce) wonders what the effect on the future will be, since it seems designed to distract us from “the real world.”

Marvin (David Toshiro Crane) is a new father who has been attending meetings, but is sharing for the first time. A neuro-chemist and avowed atheist, as he tells it, Marvin has had a life-changing experience in which something or someone claiming to be God has appeared to him; the next morning, he gets a phone call with the same claim. The apparition appears to Marvin as an 11-year-old girl. None of this is consistent with his scientific mindset. He describes the experience as involving time travel and teleportation.

Finally, Velma (Amy Aguilar), the newbie with two-toned hair, does not share her story until after a ritual tea ceremony near the end of the meeting, after the others drink a drug-laced tea, intended to return them to a pre-technology state. In their silence, she sings her story, remembering a time when she was able to make a meaningful connection with another person through the Internet. That kind of connection is what she is seeking, but she realizes that this group is not the way to find it.

Chelsea Williams, Amelia Aguilar, and Ana Marcu in Octet. Photo by Margot Schulman.

There is variety in the tone of each of the songs, though some seem overly-prolonged. The most fascinating aspect is its a cappella format, which continues to fascinate throughout.

One of the prime factors in my decision to attend was the presence of Tracy Lynn Olivera, an always-watchable actress I have admired in memorable starring and supporting roles at Signature, Ford’s, and the Round House. As always, she inhabits and makes us care about her character and contributes significantly to the effectiveness of the ensemble.

Playwright and composer Dave Malloy most notably was responsible for the 2016 Broadway musical Natasha, Peter, and the Great Comet of 1812, with which I am not familiar. Director David Muse elicits strong performances from every cast member and even-handedly keeps the audience focused on each character in turn without judgment. Music director Ben Moss deserves high praise for his work with each of the vocalists for their individual performances as well as their harmonious ensemble work. Set designer Debra Booth creates a flexible environment in which the story can unfold. Moyenda Kulemeka’s costumes are relatable and appropriate. Mary Louise Geiger’s lighting design cleverly features some unexpected and delightful sources. Nick Kouretides works his magic with a sound design that enhances the voices. Ashleigh King is credited with movement and choreography, which blend seamlessly with the action.

Octet is daring, creative, unique, timely, and on-topic, with a significant perspective on our times. Instead of staring at screens, consider spending some time with people in a shared experience, observing and listening to eight real-life human beings on a stage. Octet continues at Studio Theatre through February 22.

The cast of Octet after the ritual tea ceremony with Amelia Aguila as Amy (seated upper right side) finally delivers her song. Photo by Margot Schulman.