Well executed, but suffers from fundamental shortcomings.
werkaholics, written by Vivian Nguyen and produced by Purple Tape Productions, is not sure what it wants to be. Part satire on influencer culture, part examination of intersectionality and technology, part absurd depiction of personal relationships and late capitalism, it jumps between these concepts in a show where the focus is lost within the production. Despite employing creative technical elements and incorporating a palpable modern aesthetic, this loss means the whole experience leaves a limited impact.
werkaholics is primarily about what happens when influencer Lillian (Georgia Yenna Oom) gets cancelled by an anonymous tip-off, actually made by her best friend Jillian (Shirong Wu). As Lillian spirals, Jillian begins a relationship with debt collector Sage (Ruby Duncan). These narratives intersect, with the production also making time for lengthy monologues about the danger of influencers, exploitation of audiences, and harms of technology.
Nguyen’s script has style. Its incorporation of new age slang and pop culture references feels authentic rather than forced, and it displays a clear understanding of how bizarre creator culture, social media, and the zeitgeist surrounding the two are. Nguyen gets it. Yet, her script attempts to cover too much ground. The various angles it provides on its concepts, and its desire to be humorous, critical, personal, analytical and more mean that the audience is exposed to many ideas about content creation, relationships, and the digital age. This breadth costs the production its focus; it’s uncertain what werkaholics is trying to say. Whether this omission is by design or not, the chance to make a statement was present but ultimately drowned out.
The cast work within the script’s parameters and add some dynamism to it. Shirong Wu puts on another strong performance, and her voice work is thoroughly entertaining. Georgia Yenna Oom embodies an influencer’s good-natured but self-centred disposition well, and her attempts to show Lillian’s more intricate qualities are admirable (albeit lost in the script’s myriad of other concerns). Ruby Duncan has hilarious chemistry with Wu, but her Sage feels somewhat out of place and Duncan’s out-of-character monologues about technology are not entirely engaging. As an ensemble, the trio are at their best when they lean into the show’s more absurd moments, successfully drawing out the comedy in their performance-bending nature.
Technical elements, and the direction of them, add flair. Frankie Clark‘s creative lighting design brings chaos and intensity to the on stage action and is a real highlight of the production. Projections and other AV elements (courtesy Harrison Hall and Daniel Herten), whether of incoming phone calls, emoji-laden design sequences, or fun segues, are slick, vibrant, and visually impressive. Nicole Pingon directs those elements very well; together, they support the performers well and really make the show pop.
Ultimately, werkaholics could say something, but it doesn’t. It instead provides a litany of thoughts that are individually interesting but too numerous for substantive consideration. The cast’s performances are humorous and the creative production elements are noteworthy, but that foundational issue is not overcome – resulting in what feels like a missed opportunity.
