Some of the best theatrical experiences arise from situations that seem to have no obvious relevance to the viewer. Working to create a world that may be far apart from your own, a gifted playwright can take you into hearts and souls of the characters, not through obvious swings at universality, but in specifics that reverberate with recognizable truth.
So it could have been with "Non-Player Character," Walt McGough's play now on display as part of San Francisco Playhouse's Sandbox Series of world premieres. But despite the stylish production it is receiving at Yerba Buena Center's Creativity Theater in director Lauren English's production, the play doesn't transcend its niche specifics, and even for those in that niche, the storytelling may still seem weak.
McGough was inspired by the real-life "Gamergate," a snowballing series of events that was big news among those involved in the role-playing video-game culture, but perhaps under the radar of those whose video-game experiences range from Pac-Man to Angry Birds. (That would include me.) As McGough explores the virulent sexism, harassment, and threats that can erupt in an anonymous role-playing community, he seldom digs beneath the obvious surface of the situations.
In the opening scenes, we see the characters in their virtual world of make-believe battles in a mythical world. Glued to computer screens around the country, they can hear each other but only see avatars as they battle villainous forces with swords, fists, and karate chops. "A nefarious warlock has made off with my prize pumpkin," says a gnome as make-believe warriors go to battle against killer zucchinis and enraged rose bushes that they can see but we cannot. It's not terribly interesting to watch actors leap about in an empty space without weapons against invisible monsters, although Jacquelyn Scott's spare set and Theodore J.H. Hulsker's projections are helpful.
Troubles arise when one of the regular players invites a newcomer into the game who, in avatar form, is a muscular, bare-chested bully (Tyler McKenna) who thinks one female player is a girly wuss who should be exiled, although he's fine with a flame-throwing warrior (Annemaria Rajala) who is not what she seems. But the belittled Katya (Emily Radosevich) is defended by her old friend Trent (Devin O'Brien), who hopes romance will kindle between them even though she moved to Seattle and he is stuck living with his parents in a second-tier city in Pennsylvania.
Katya is happy with their long-distance relationship, and when she rebuffs Trent's professions of love, he enflames the message boards with derogatory comments. "She is a serial careerist," is one of his not-too-potent condemnations, but from there, the online community begins stalking, trolling, and threatening her.
Katya becomes a recluse, taking refuge in the home of a Starbucks colleague (Charisse Loriaux), and her meltdown is pretty much in the form we would expect. All the while, she is developing her own video game that supposedly shows the gentler side of gaming. "How do you win?" asks Trent. There are no winners, she replies. "Where are the guns?" asks her Starbucks buddy. There are no guns. Just trees and falling leaves and sentimental stories to go with the imagery, which provides an unlikely, ineffectual, but supposedly happy denouement.
A glossary is provided with the program, but it's not much help as characters throw around such terms as battlemage, paladins, and nightblades. It wouldn't matter so much if the dramatic situations surrounding the game-playing and real-life dramas displayed more insight into a world where gender, behavior, and personal circumstances can be overridden with the help of a computer program. While respect for female players in video games is supposedly at stake, the playwright doesn't take us much beyond a play-nice message that could have shed light on larger societal situations but is stuck among the enraged rose bushes.
"Non-Player Character" will run at the Creativity Theater through March 3. Tickets are $20-$125. Call (415) 677-9596 or go to sfplayhouse.org