Eliza Kent portrays Karyn, Karen, and Karin in interactive one-woman online show
October Surprise Edition
New Georges
Monday, November 2, $15-$30, 6:00
newgeorges.org
www.afo.nyc
I was initially hesitant to check out Karen, I Said. One of our best friends is named Karen, and at a recent socially distanced and masked lunch she talked with us about how annoying and infuriating it is that her name has become such an awful meme, representing so many things she is against. But word of mouth about Eliza Bent’s one-woman show was too much to ignore, so I was able to finally experience an October Surprise Edition during its extended run, which ends November 2. And I now get what all the fuss is about — and even think our friend Karen might actually enjoy it as well. Or maybe not.
Karen, I Said takes place in three parts over forty-five minutes. In the first section, Bent, whose previous solo works include Toilet Fire and Aloha, Aloha, or When I Was Queen, is Karyn, a thirty-eight-year-old white mother who is sending messages about her friend Karen over Instagram, filmed in claustrophobic spaces in her apartment, primarily a crowded closet. (The design is by Erma Fiend.) “My name’s Karyn. With a y. I’m not that kinda Karen,” she tells 911 when she calls to report a “non-emergency,” that her friend Karen has contacted 911 to complain that her vegetarian goddess lasagna came covered in meat sauce. “Karen, you’ve got rage turned outward on the delivery guy. It’s ‘misplaced anger.’ You’re not mad at the delivery guy; you’re mad about—”
Karyn’s frenzied stream of words are occasionally accompanied by emojis, funny facial close-ups, and pop-culture images (from The Simpsons to Biscoff biscuits to The Sopranos), putting a playful stamp on her declarations as she chastises her bestie since seventh grade, talking about rage, depression, pandemic marketing, “micro-aggravations,” and who’s more woke. After letting Karen know that her name has gone viral, now standing for “a racist white lady who tries to police bodies of water / bodies of color! / black and brown bodies,” Karen is upset. “We’re all racist,” Karyn says. “Admitting that is the first step.”
In the second part, Karen, portrayed by Bent in a more suburban style, shares her side of the story as she Zooms in from her relatively spacious kitchen. “For the record — I am SORRY I yelled at the delivery dude. And I DID apologize to him after I cooled down,” she says. “We even HUGGED. He’s single and he hadn’t been hugged since MARCH. I just REALLY WANTED that vegetarian goddess lasagna.” Also a thirty-eight-year-old white mother, Karen refers to Karyn as her “ex-friend,” sharing her thoughts on progressives, coastal elites, animal rights, and the Rohingya.
In the final, longest section, a thirty-eight-year-old white woman named Karin (she/her/hers/they/them/we/us) with a more professional demeanor, also played by Bent, is hosting an interactive Zoom meeting called “Consciousness Raising, Health & Wellness as Regards to Anti-Racism, Racial Healing, and Historic Macro-Injustices in the Workspace and Beyond.” The audience is encouraged to open the chat window and participate, in addition to unmuting to recite the Liberal Progressive Creed: “On this Zoom / we believe / Black Lives Matter / Women’s rights are human rights / No human is illegal / Science is real / (and really hard) / Love is Love. / NPR is King. / Kindness . . . *or Else!* / Home has no hate here.” Karin speaks directly to the audience, addressing postings in the chat from regular attendees Randy, Hannah, Zeke, and Kaaron as well as those from audience members as they debate acknowledging the native ancestors of the land they are on, virtue signaling, holding space, personal pronouns, book clubs, and the weaponization of language.
In this third part, Bent, who also wrote the script, and director Tara Ahmadinejad (Leap and the Net Will Appear, Lunch Bunch) wrap up everything that was said and alluded to in the first two segments and tie it all up in a little bow that might not look so pretty in the mirror. Presented by bentertainment and New Georges in association with All for One Theater, Karen, I Said is a satirical examination of anti-racism and white privilege from the point of view of white men and women who want to be allies but are not always sure what that entails, or what it even means. They might want to do good, but they have a lot of learning to do. Of course, so do we all, so-called Karens or not.