Jordan Harrison’s ‘The Antiquities’ Offers a Chilling Perspective on Where Technology May Be Taking Us
The full title is ‘A Tour of the Permanent Collection in the Museum of Late Human Antiquities,’ and that’s exactly what is delivered, in a series of vignettes that stretch between the early 19th century and an unspecified time well in the future.

One of the most original, provocative, and haunting new plays I’ve seen in more than 20 years as a critic was Jordan Harrison’s “Marjorie Prime,” a 2015 Pulitzer Prize finalist that was later adapted into a film. Set in the mid-21st century, it follows an elderly woman who enjoys the constant company of her late husband, in the form of a sophisticated hologram that has brought him back as a 30-year-old man.
At its core, “Prime” asks what it means to be human, and how that is affected by time and our surroundings, a theme that Mr. Harrison has explored in various other works; one of his most recent, “The Amateurs,” unfolds during the Black Plague. His latest venture, “The Antiquities,” brings us back to the future, to a post-“Prime” era — and it offers an even more chilling perspective on where technology may be taking us.
The full title provided in the new play’s script is “A Tour of the Permanent Collection in the Museum of Late Human Antiquities,” and that’s exactly what is delivered, in a series of vignettes that stretch between the early 19th century — or a re-enactment of it, to be accurate — and an unspecified time; the latest exhibit is dated 2240, and one senses this museum was established a while after that.
We’re first introduced to a pair of women — that is, they look like women — dressed as if they had just stepped out of the 1800s. In addition to serving as our guides, they will take part in the exhibit that frames the play: a re-imagining of the famous ghost-story contest in which Mary Shelley conceived “Frankenstein.” Lest we forget, that is an account of a scientist who tried to use electricity to recreate life, with rather nasty consequences.
The real monsters in “Antiquities,” though, are Victor Frankenstein’s heirs. We seldom see them in the flesh, though they figure prominently in one exhibit, set in 2014 and spotlighting a trio of sweatshirt-clad tech bros — one swigs from a bottle of Soylent — as they try to determine which of a series of digitally generated female voices (think Alexa, who made her debut that year) will seem the most accessible, or human, to consumers.

An earlier robot innovator, named Stuart and introduced in an exhibit dated 1978, is more sympathetic; socially awkward and prone to feelings of grandiosity — “I made a life!” he exclaims — he nonetheless seems capable of vulnerability and empathy. He even recognizes the danger potentially posed by his ambitions, though he mistakes it for progress.
“To a computer, everything is a One or a Zero, an open circuit or a closed circuit,” he explains at one point. “A Yes or a No. It’s why they’ll surpass us eventually — there’s no in-between to waste energy on. None of that messy human doubt that weighs us down.”
That “in-between” — a term Mr. Harrison uses more than once, and with a distinct urgency — is what’s at risk, and ultimately squashed, in “Antiquities,” which presents artificial intelligence as just as great a threat to our species as climate change. What’s implicit here is that greed is integral to both risks: Where Stuart at least imagines he is moving society forward as he attains personal glory, those tech bros, and the corporations who employ them, are driven more purely by selfish avarice.
Not surprisingly, there are scenes in the play, set in the more distant future, that suggest a dystopian science fiction movie. But some of the most affecting exhibits focus on the past or on a short time from now, like one in which a screenwriter, frustrated by competing with peers who have had chips implanted in their brains to enhance their professional efficiency, consults with a doctor, who warns her that if she has the surgery, she’ll “never be off again.”
When his patient seems confused, the doctor, who seems considerably older, elaborates: “Like when we had dial-up. … Sometimes you were on-line. Sometimes you were off. You’d make a cup of tea and, I dunno, look out the window and watch the seasons change. Or if you went on a road trip and there was no wifi.” The writer admits, “I don’t really remember that.”
David Cromer, a master at guiding ensembles in intimate surroundings, and Caitlin Sullivan, his co-director, cull superb performances from all nine actors in the cast. The youngest, Julius Rinzel, an eighth-grade student at the Professional Performing Arts School, can no doubt relate to the screenwriter’s predicament.
One senses, particularly in the play’s more fantastical sequences, that Mr. Harrison isn’t pretending to peer into a crystal ball as much as he’s issuing a warning. But even in that capacity, “The Antiquities” proves as creepy as it is captivating.