Public shame can become a zombie, one that ambles through algorithms on the web and can’t be taken down with a simple headshot. A stupid Twitter joke alone can haunt someone for years, if not forever. Right to be Forgotten, a world premiere play now showing at Arena Stage, dramatizes this development and offers a potential solution: a national privacy law that would allow individuals to effectively delete information about themselves from the web. (Similar “right to be forgotten” laws are currently in place in the U.K. and Europe.)
This brisk and thought-provoking production, written by Sharyn Rothstein and directed by Seema Sueko, works best as a conversation starter. Though there is a great deal of moral and legal complexity to the issues it tackles, the tale told here is strictly one of white hats versus black hats.
Specifically, it’s the story of Derril Lark (John Austin), a “deeply miserable” twentysomething PhD candidate whose personal and professional lives continue to suffer many years after being publicly shamed by a blogger. The offense in question, committed when he was 17, is sufficiently thorny: You could easily see his actions as those of a well-meaning doofus and also view them as legitimately disturbing. Either way, Derril insists his debt has long been paid; links to the original blog post (as well as many reposts) should be hidden from search engines via a new privacy law that allows individuals to own their online destinies.
Enter Marta Lee (the terrific Melody Butiu), a do-gooder privacy attorney with a penchant for manic comic outbursts. She agrees to take Derril’s case and concocts a stunt that will get his name into the national spotlight and perhaps gain the attention of a district attorney (Edward O’Blenis) who can champion the cause. Of course, Big Tech has a lot to lose should such a privacy law be passed. They soon deploy Annie (Rachel Felstein), a slick D.C. lobbyist known as “Silicon Valley’s secret weapon,” to frustrate Derril’s crusade at every turn.
Though there are a handful of charming scenes between Derril and a potential romantic interest (Shubhangi Kuchibhotla) and some genuine plot twists involving his original accuser (Guadalupe Campos), Right to be Forgotten feels more like an opinion page polemic come to life than a human drama. Visually, Adam Honoré’s impressive (and immersive) lighting design and projected images by Shawn Duan make the most of the set’s many blank squares and one big rectangle (which frequently transforms into a search bar). Despite this bit of flash, and the undoubtedly noteworthy question at its center, I fear Right to be Forgotten just may get what it’s asking for.
Right to be Forgotten runs at Arena Stage through Nov. 10. $92-$115. Runtime approximately one hour and 35 minutes with no intermission
This story has been updated to reflect that Shawn Duan designed the projections for Right to be Forgotten.
