The posters for Angry Alan, the new production at Northern Light Theatre, portray an angry man. The character on the poster seems to be mid-rant, gesturing towards an audience with his laptop open and his mouth open. So I expected that. But when the actor in this solo show, Cody Porter, first appears frozen at the dark vom entrance to the theatre, looking at the audience apprehensively, and then walks cautiously towards the stage as an unfamiliar space, I didn’t see anger. Even as he starts to tell his story, his distracted demeanour and circumlocutions convey that he’s telling a story he doesn’t want to tell.
Roger, currently a junior manager at a Safeway store, starts with a self-deprecating anecdote he knows his listeners will relate to – checking his phone before going for a run and getting sucked into hours of clicking links and watching videos. In one of those links, he finds a video “about history”, by a man whose seductive analysis of society reassures him that life has not been fair to him, because he is a man.
I was drawn in despite myself, to Trevor Schmidt’s production of Penelope Skinner’s 2018 script Angry Alan. I expected to be frightened for myself and others, and enraged, and frustrated. But this naive guy talking about how the messages he found online were new to him and how they gave him comfort – I kind of liked him.
Roger tells us he keeps reading, and keeps watching, and signs up for mailing lists. He notices things in his own life that fit the patterns he’s told about by “Angry Alan.” At work, he’s expected to suppress his own feelings and let customers (female customers, it seems), not only express their feelings but manipulate the employees with them. This fits what Alan’s group is saying – that society expects men to pay attention to women’s feelings but not their own. Once he’s watching for this pattern, he observes that a male bagger gets fired because a female customer cries about broken eggs. Maybe he could intervene, and protest?
He tells us he has a son he doesn’t talk to often, because of divorce and custody arrangements. And, parroting the arguments of Angry Alan and other men’s-rights activists, he extrapolates that this shows a system biased in favour of women and mothers, and that feminism has “gone too far”.
In both cases, I was gripped by the apparently-logical steps from the character’s real problems to erroneous and dangerous conclusions. I found myself wanting to make noises and gestures of disgust, and I was disturbed that some in the opening-night audience were laughing. It was outrageous, but it was not ridiculous. Maybe it was a laughter of shock and discomfort.
By the time Roger is ready to talk about his discoveries to anyone else in his life, he has gone far enough into the us-vs-them world that nobody can talk him back. Roger uses the metaphor of having a Red Pill Moment, calling back to the film The Matrix where choosing to take a red pill means choosing uncomfortable revelation. He sees any challenges or disagreements as more evidence that men are oppressed. He texts his son a link to Angry Alan, sure that it will help them connect. His son responds LOL, which Roger misinterprets.
The production makes good use of projections (Amelia Chan) in showing some of the online interactions that influence Roger’s choices. We see text-message screens, emails, some real video clips of people in that culture, and the website where Roger decides to sign up for a Men’s Rights conference and then is presented with a request to donate to the cause, slickly presenting it as an opportunity to be an “insider” in the movement.
Partway through, I realized that nobody was laughing any more. The narrative was incredibly unsettling, and the portrayal was effective. Roger is so full of hope, believing that being part of this movement will bring him happiness – and the audience can see so much wrong that he’s not noticing.
After the play, over delicious snacks of the opening night reception, we talked about how people who do not feel included and understood are vulnerable to recruitment by gangs, by cults, by populist political movements, by radical extremists of all kinds. And how the groups and their recruiters use those tools intentionally. I suddenly remembered the offstage “mob” behind the doxxing and harassment of Kristin Johnston’s character in Workshop West’s production of Mob last year. It was easy to see how that lonely and struggling young man, portrayed by Graham Mothersill, would have grasped at the chance to impress other men by doing something mean.
This production is a nuanced and disturbing exploration of some societal trends that I mostly try not to think about. I guess I’d like things to be black-and-white too, but they are not. Trevor Schmidt, Cody Porter, and the rest of the team have done some brilliant work to make me understand this character, and other men like him. And maybe I need to understand them, in order to help build a world that is better for everyone. I’m glad I saw it and I’m not done thinking about it.
Angry Alan is playing at the Studio in the Fringe Arts Barns, until January 23rd. Tickets are available here.
Ephemeral Pleasures 