Bullet Review

Woke up feeling still terrified and shaken by Privacy, a play by James Graham which we saw last night at the Public. The play begins with Daniel Radcliffe, as a young British writer with major intimacy issues, at his psychiatrist’s office following a cataclysmic breakup. The story arc pedal goes quickly to the metal as a virtual sledge hammer takes out the fourth wall with the audience clutching their iPhones that they have been asked to keep on and signed in to the play's own wifi.

On his post breakup trip to New York, the writer explores his own intimacy and privacy issues. As he digitally stalks his ex, the new world order is unpacked for him by a buffet of the leading professors, scholars, politicians and business titans played by the excellent cast.

The terror hits home as we watch the personal stuff that gets put on the wall size screen at the back of the stage gathered from the audience based on information shared when tickets were purchased. The nightmare deepens as we are taken on a tour of how the post 911 NSA mega data vacuum is busy sucking out and studying every ounce of where we are, what we buy, who we talk to and what we say. This includes the ability to know when a woman is pregnant before she does based on her search terms and shopping patterns. When Edward Snowden was interviewed in Moscow he made the reporter put his iPhone in the refrigerator because the mic and camera can be activated remotely. A quick hand scan of the audience picked up purchasing information on a clothing tag.

If the words brilliant and genius are used to mask techno cluelessness let me say that this play is brilliant and the playwright a genius.

Radcliffe makes a post curtain appeal to the audience to not reveal some of the surprises – so I will just give this spoiler alert - if we as a species have any need for privacy – we are fucked.