In the future, The Nether is dotted with illicit, untraceable realms catering to unholy desires. The Hideaway is one of them. Its well-paying customers are pedophiles and child murderers.
Our setting is, we presume, America, some years in the future. The scene opens in an interrogation room. There we find Detective Morris (Carolyn Feres) questioning an effete gentleman named Sims (Christopher Spencer) about his activities in an all-encompassing virtual universe that has devolved into a bloated, grotesque descendant of the internet called "The Nether," where people live out alternate realities.
As his own avatar, Sims (also known by his clientele as Papa) has created a nostalgic, pseudo-Victorian haven called the Hideaway, where paying guests can indulge anonymously in their deepest, darkest desires with a series of eerily identical children. One such little girl is named Iris, played by the remarkable 14-year old Story Gemmati. Iris is creepily compliant and has a way of blanking out whenever a new client, Woodnut (Justin Callisch), mentions “shades” or “The Nether.” She’s ersatz Victorian, but Victorian just the same.
This is Los Angeles-based dramatist Jennifer Haley’s very cunning and equally knotty Susan Smith Blackburn prize-winning, Olivier-nominated play about aberrant and maverick communities on the internet in a future just around the corner. A fantastical set for this satisfying yet tautly twisted drama created by Tim Mueller—which opened a week ago on the Mainstage at Golden West College and runs through Sunday, March 16th—implies a devastated, ash-palette, rain-cloud world leached of color, vegetation and even morals.
In their third production of the 2024-25 season, Golden West College Performing Arts takes an intelligent approach by largely getting out of the way of Haley’s thorny script. There’s a studied kind of distance in the performances of the committed cast that lets the ideas breathe—a welcome choice given how unsettling the story could have become in less careful hands. But if you are not aware of the billions spent on internet porn, let alone have discussed its ethical implications in polite society, Haley’s award-winning play may shock you out of your seat, taking on two of the most fearsome bête noires of our age: pedophilia and the internet's sinister imaginative power, and the symbiotic relationship between the two.
Haley's expertly crafted libretto, and the tension ratcheted up by Director Tom Amen’s hauntingly effective guidance, is a compelling, profoundly disturbing 85-ish minutes of theatre, hammered home by superb visuals, exquisite acting and futuristic costuming, which helps to physicalize our journey into this world and slowly wrap our heads around what’s going on beneath the surface. By the time the play ends, the world—both real and virtual—simply doesn't seem quite the same.
As we mentioned, we begin our story in an interrogation room, not the kind of place known for festive décor. But, as layer after layer is uncovered, the dialogue begins to suggest that what lies beyond this grim chamber is no brighter. Blue skies and leafy green trees, it seems, are a thing of the past. But this alternative and inviting Eden isn’t real. Although, whenever you step into it, it might as well be. It is the custom-made reflection of one man’s fantasy. And we are told it is the most sophisticated example ever of a lush simulacrum, a complete virtual universe, to be reached only online. There’s only one catch.
Visitors to the Hideaway are there not just to taste the fresh air. It’s also a liminal space. They have come to carry out their sexual fantasies with, and if they choose, even murder and mutilate the exquisite virtual children who live and play there.
As intriguing as the scenarios that Haley raises, the cast keeps us rooted to the particular characters and their stories, which feels very much like a detective mystery, and packs some real surprises along the way. Young Story Gemmati’s performance as Iris is the most impressive and emblematic; she walks the finest of lines between playing the child avatar, and her real-life acting toggles between emotional distance and emotional honesty. She comes across as just-enough-but-not-too-much with her portrayal of Iris as a digital fantasy. She is so convincing that we somehow block out the horrors of the moment and tell ourselves that she is not real, undeterred by the exotic themes happening onstage right in front of us. Yet, in turn, we are not let off the hook for what the story is supposed to be characterizing.
It’s very true that any play that presents a pretty little girl as an object of desire is bound to provoke discomfort and gasp-worthy objections, and in the past, a few have suggested it may be trafficking in sensationalism. But would that change minds if we know that the girl—even if she is portrayed by a very skilled young flesh-and-blood actress like Ms. Gemmati— isn’t real, but an abstract digital embodiment instead? Food for thought.
With scenes cutting back and forth from the Hideaway to the investigation, we see Ms. Feres' Detective Morris, as the prosecuting voice, has had two men brought in for interrogation. One of them of course is Mr. Spencer’s Sims, who offers the rationalist and capitalist defense for its existence, which he says is entirely “in accordance with the statute of sensual role play.” "Better," he says, "to give unnatural desires free rein in the virtual world than to unleash them on the real one."
The other interviewee is a longtime Hideaway customer, Mr. Doyle (the versatile Scott Keister), a science teacher, who has grown so addicted to the place that he wants to live there forever. His justification for an ephemeral Hideaway is more philosophical than Sims, and spends much time in an emotional state.
In her grilling of Doyle and Sims, Morris also refers to a detective who had entered The Hideaway undercover as “a guest"—Woodnut, we rightly assume. Mr. Callisch excels in his role as Woodnut as he befriends the young Iris. Yet avatars aren’t always who they say they are (the end of the play is especially intriguing with multiple character revelations).
To maintain his carefully nurtured balance of power, Sims requires his clients not to become too attached to his girls. When intimacy beckons, he encourages Woodnut to “kill” Iris with an ax. Chillingly, Iris reassures her reluctant suitor that she always regenerates after her “death,” and hands him the ax with seductive magnanimity.
Playwright Haley, through Detective Morris, questions whether perversity and violence that might be wrought in the not-real world should be legislated in real life, where its effects would certainly be more consequential. She asks us to consider the relationship between imagination and action, at a time when people are becoming increasingly enticed by the virtual.
THE NETHER, with its strong, mature theme, isn’t a play for all ages. Its appeal is that of an artful short story with disquieting topical resonance. But, as a parable for where we’re headed on that big old highway in the digital sky, THE NETHER does exert a viselike grip while taking you down avenues of thought you probably haven’t traveled before. After the show, you will no doubt have mixed feelings. You may not feel like turning on your computer for a while. You may also have an overwhelming urge to take a shower.
Tainted by complicity, some of us are drawn deep into the story, even as we are repelled by much of the subject matter. And the superb performances—notably those of Mr. Spencer’s Papa/Sims and Scott Keister’s Doyle—further muddles our natural instinct to avoid people who seek out pedophilic erotic thrills.
The entire cast, in fact, gave striking portrayals: Carolyn Feres’ authoritative stance on her character was perfectly executed; Justin Callisch’s realistic take of a conflicted public servant who was slowly surrendering to temptation was entrancing; and Story Gemmati’s interpretation of her role was not only thought-provoking, but quite beguiling.
THE NETHER, at GOLDEN WEST COLLEGE PERFORMING ARTS MAINSTAGE THEATER, A Play by JENNIFER HALEY; Directed by TOM AMEN; Scenic Designer TIM MUELLER; Lighting Designer MATT SCHLEICHER; Costume Designer AMANDA MARTIN; Sound Designer PAISHA BLEICH; Hair & Makeup Designer MICHON GRUBER; Stage Manager KRISTEN WINTERS; Technical Director BRYAN DAUTERIVE; Assistant to the Director WILLIAM LOGAN.
THE NETHER runs March 7th through March 16th. Performances at 7:30PM (Sunday at 2PM). Running time approximately 85 minutes with no intermission. For tickets please visit www.gwctheater.com/
Chris Daniels
Arts & Entertainment Reviewer
The Show Report
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