Imagine paying top dollar to see a play starring Tom Hanks, only to realize it's more like a staged vanity project. That's the unsettling experience some are having at The Shed with "This World of Tomorrow." Is it really theater, or just an elaborate fan letter written by and for Tom Hanks himself?
Let's be clear: "This World of Tomorrow," penned by Hanks and James Glossman and directed by Kenny Leon, isn't inherently bad. It simply feels… unnecessary. Based on elements from Hanks' short-story collection, Uncommon Type, it presents a story of Bert Allenberry, a wealthy tech mogul from 2100, who repeatedly travels back to the 1939 New York World's Fair using a time-travel service called Chronometric Adventures. His justification? He's fascinated by how the past envisioned a future better than our present. But here's the catch: it quickly becomes clear that Bert's real motivation is his infatuation with Carmen Perry (played by Kelli O'Hara), a charming divorcée he keeps encountering. Each time he travels back, Carmen doesn't remember him, leading to a series of increasingly… well, persistent re-introductions. This dynamic, a bizarre mix of Groundhog Day, Midnight in Paris, and even the ethically dubious sci-fi flick Passengers, raises some eyebrows. And this is the part most people miss: The play doesn't really grapple with the potential creepiness of a powerful man repeatedly pursuing a woman who doesn't remember him.
There's a missed opportunity here. You'd expect a play with such a premise to explore themes of nostalgia's dangers or the entitlement of the ultra-rich. But "This World of Tomorrow" largely avoids any real dramatic friction. The script offers a few token nods to the racism of the 1930s – Black ensemble members occasionally roll their eyes at Bert's naive cheerfulness. It's also been mentioned that the play touches upon the "rise in authoritarianism," which seems to translate to a single line about Bert perhaps using time travel to assassinate Hitler. But here's where it gets controversial... the play doesn't seem to fully endorse OR condemn Bert's nostalgia, it simply allows it to unfold. It's as if the play lacks a rudder, drifting aimlessly without a clear thematic destination. Kenny Leon, unfortunately, doesn't seem to have provided much direction either, despite his experience with celebrity-driven productions. One might argue that the play is about "time and love," but time is an abstract concept, and love feels strangely absent from the stage.
Adding to the underwhelming experience is the surprisingly cheap-looking set design. Despite what must have been a considerable budget, Derek McLane's "cybernetic wilderness" of moving columns and projections feels strangely sterile. Given Bert's fascination with the 1939 World's Fair, wouldn't it have been more engaging to see recreations of some of its iconic innovations, like the famous Elektro the Moto-Man robot or Elsie the Borden Cow? Instead, the play opts for heavy-handed exposition and technobabble, with Hanks' colleagues spouting time-travel jargon in what resemble Star Trek costumes. Frankly, the audience probably cares little about the "acids" that supposedly accumulate during time travel.
However, there is a glimmer of hope in the second act, where Bert and Carmen meet in a 1950s Greek diner. Jay O. Sanders, as the grumpy diner owner, injects some much-needed life into the proceedings, almost convincing you that you're watching a genuine play. His character's insistence on teaching everyone Greek vocabulary provides some welcome humor. It's an odd inclusion, perhaps influenced by Hanks' wife, Rita Wilson, who is of Greek descent. But at least it adds a touch of unexpected personality.
Ultimately, "This World of Tomorrow" is about one thing: Tom Hanks. And while it's undeniably captivating to be in the same room with such a beloved movie star, it's hard to shake the feeling that you're witnessing a performance of his own persona, not a character. He exudes a familiar, comforting energy, much like a friendly old dog seeking affection. When he delivers jokes about the discovery of real milk at the World's Fair, the audience responds with a collective sigh of relief, as if to say, "Ah, yes, this is the Tom Hanks we came to see." Perhaps the expectations we place on movie stars venturing into theater are too high. Maybe it's time to abandon the pretense altogether and simply allow them to stand on stage, bathed in golden light, while we bask in their presence. After all, are they really performing, or are we the ones performing our admiration?
So, is "This World of Tomorrow" a worthwhile theatrical experience, or just an expensive opportunity to admire Tom Hanks? Is it fair to expect more depth and complexity from a play starring such a prominent figure? And, perhaps most importantly, is it ever justifiable to repeatedly pursue someone who doesn't remember you? Let us know your thoughts in the comments below!
