Review: STRATEGIC LOVE PLAY at Signature Theatre

Dating is hard, and the modern convenience of apps has made it only more so with the promise that with just one more swipe, one more date, you’ll find the perfect match in the endless sea of possibility. After all, with the whole world at our fingertips, how can you settle for anything less?

The frustrations of the dating scene have always been a wealth of material for entertainment – from plays and musicals to television and film dramas to podcasts to standup, nearly everyone can find dating and its disasters relatable, funny, or poignant. So Strategic Love Play, which premiered this weekend at Signature Theatre, held tremendous promise in its attempt to explore the frustrating world of dating in the modern era, and how to leave the hamster wheel of disappointment for good.

Much like dating itself, Strategic Love Play may in part be a victim of its crowded field – it’s hard not to watch the set-up and wonder if we’re getting a Black Mirror-style commentary, a satirical or comedic exploration like Crazy, Stupid Love, or something thoughtful and engaging like the beloved Company. Instead, we land somewhere around He’s Just Not That Into You, something that thinks it’s more insightful than it is, with an uneven tone and  a questionable message.

Strategic Love Play centers on a date between two people who, presumably, met on a dating app and are meeting in person for the first time at a bar in New York. The characters are billed simply a “Man” and “Woman,” but do introduce themselves as “Adam” and “Jenny,” though who they actually are doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. The show opens with the Woman rushing in, late and unleashing a stream of unhinged comments before she’s even reached the table. The two immediately recognize that they’re dissatisfied with the person in front of them, but proceed with the motions of the date, trying to decide if one drink or two is necessary for it to count as having put in a genuine effort to this ill-fated venture. When the Woman leaves to get the second round, the Man leaves an awkward voice memo for his Best Friend, Alice, pretending things are going well; later on, when he storms out on her, the Woman leaves a similar message for her friend, Emma. It’s over the second drink, though, that the Woman proposes a different arrangement, where the two decide to just pick each other and simply go from there – forget romance or finding “the one” in favor of stable companionship, negotiated like a business arrangement. It’s presented as a radical idea even with the acknowledgement that this has historically been a common occurance, and still is for many people, but eventually the Man agrees to give this new approach a try, despite – or maybe even because of – his previous dislike. Their initial lack of a connection is why they feel a level of comfort, and stripped of the need to impress or win over the other, they start to share more of themselves, their hopes, their disappointments, their missteps. But this openness makes it easier to truly see each other, and opens the door for the possibility of more than just their arrangement.

Part of the frustration with Strategic Love Play is that it’s not quite sure what it is as a show. Is it trying to be an over-the-top satire to poke fun at the notoriously miserable dating scene? Perhaps that’s true for the Woman’s outlandish behavior, but it doesn’t align with the Man’s more grounded portrayal. Is it trying to hold a mirror to the dating scene and make some kind of commentary? Maybe, but then it’s odd for the Woman’s character to be so over-the-top, and the point seems more than a little muddled. It’s almost as though the play is trying to be both at once – satirical and a realistic portrayal of our world – and fails to meet either. Audience members walk out without any real insights or catharsis, left with just a feeling of discomfort that doesn’t really encourage any sort of introspection or engagement. Even the title is confusing – the Woman may come in with some sort of “strategy,” but the whole second half of the show chips away at the idea of this until it’s essentially meaningless, and in a way that feels less profound and more disconnected.

The question I keep coming back to is simple: who is the intended audience for this show? Its focus on the heterosexual dating scene seems to imply that’s the audience as well, but that intention really magnifies the most concerning parts of this play. Women – especially women who tend to be in high-powered jobs like they are in New York, where the show is set, and DC, where it’s performed – may very well see themselves in Jenny, particularly in her more vulnerable moments when she reflects on whether she’s too much to be loveable, but the overall arc of the show tells us that the Woman is inherently flawed in a way that will forever keep her from her goal of finding someone who loves her as she is. For all of her introspection, every glimpse that might be an “aha” moment for someone who relates to the Woman (most notably when she wonders if she self-sabotages to avoid rejection) is summarily dismissed, and her behavior is far too erratic and incongruous for any real insight. There’s no thoughtful commentary or moment of catharsis for her or those who connect to her, just an implied, “she’s just a bit insane,” which feels as dismissive as any failed date.

On the other hand, the lack of introspection makes it seem as though this may be geared towards a heterosexual male audience, if only for the fact that it essentially reenforces that the Man’s character is the “normal” and “correct” one; even when he relays some pretty egregious behavior, he’s only ever called out for one action, and it’s far from his worst; in fact, he’s even actively comforted by the Woman for some of his worst offenses, or they go unacknowledged entirely, including when he loses his temper with her. While some audience members who have dated men may find the Man’s behavior outright triggering and reminiscent of abusive partners, Strategic Love Play assures him and men like him that they’re good guys without ever engaging critically with what that designation has come to be recognized as culturally.

There’s also a sense of trying too hard to capture this common experience. Although it drew some laughs from the audience, the dialogue, especially at the opening of the show, felt like it was so intent on being witty, it lost any connection with how people actually communicate. Even more frustrating, although these characters presumably met on a dating app of some sort, there’s no reference to previous conversations, no acknowledgement of anything one may have shared in the past, except for the part where it’s established that the Man never shared his actual name before meeting; they start so noticeably at square one that it’s almost like the light fixture that’s leaning in the corner with no noticeable flaw in the wall where it theoretically once was – it’s so deliberate, it actually removes any sense of verisimilitude. The same applies to the stilted voicemails the two leave their friends, speaking in such an awkward way that it feels more like the friends may be fabricated rather than close loved ones. It often felt as though the show was so focused on trying to be funny and insightful, it lost the ability to be either, and lost its ability to capture human connection in the process. Which, admittedly, could be a great reflection of how many feel when facing the gauntlet that is dating these days, but that’s never really explored either.

The technical elements of Signature’s show are serviceable, if a bit substandard compared to the Theatre’s other works; they suffer, truthfully, from comparison to the capabilities of the production team rather than from any noticeable shortfalls. Geldard’s costumes keep the characters fairly generic, though the Woman’s ill-fitted top, while possibly intentional, was a bit distracting. Andrew Cissna’s lighting did capture a solid club atmosphere, but the decision to keep the stage otherwise bare and quiet added an odd otherworldliness to the date; with no one else around except for the friends the pair left unanswered messages for throughout their date, combined with the characters’ unwillingness to leave despite clearly wanting to and the aforementioned light fixture, some elements felt so carefully artificial that I suspected a twist of reality that never came.

While Danny Gavigan and Bligh Voth are clearly talented performers, the odd script and lack of clear intention in the storytelling set an insurmountable challenge for them. Voth’s erratic take on the Woman fits how the character was written, but made it hard to warm up to her performance, especially with her forced laugh lines. While Gavigan can usually give a gripping layered performance, his portrayal of the Man felt flat and unengaging, and in many ways his character feels entirely forgettable, despite some triggering behaviors and monologues.

All of this said, there’s an intriguing idea at the center of this play: the idea of choosing to be with someone, as they are, rather than continuing the exhausting and demoralizing process of going through the motions of dating over and over, constantly confronted with the ideas of failure or that the next person will be the right choice, the right fit. As previously noted, the Woman’s proposal to just choose each other and build a life isn’t totally radical – after all, arranged marriages, marriages of convenience, and nonromantic partnerships have all existed across human cultures and history – but feels radical in a day and age when the apps promise our perfect match. There’s something to be explored in how exhausted and lonely and inadequate most people in the dating scene report feeling – Signature’s Artistic Director, Matthew Gardiner, references a Chamber of Commerce study that identified the District of Columbia as the loneliest city in America, despite (or, maybe more likely, because of) its recent ranking as the “best city for dating” by Apartments List due to the high number of single people. And a show that can dig in on that feeling and try to explore why we feel this way and how to break out of this cycle is one that can be incredibly engaging. Unfortunately, though, any time it feels like Strategic Love Play gets to the edge of this kind of insight or comedy or even just an acknowledgement of the realities of this experience, it veers away in a cheap or baffling direction instead. Much like the dating experience it’s trying to reflect, Strategic Love Play manages to build up great potential, then falls flat at the last moment – and not even in a way that feels intentional or insightful.