‘dark play’ lives up to its name

It seems almost quaint to remember a time, not so long ago, when teenagers’ lies during the blush of first romances were generally endearing.

Fibs and bluster spread in the classroom, whispered in the lunchroom and shouted on the playground have been around almost as long as there have been classrooms and young people spreading their metaphoric wings as they tested their charms on the opposite sex.

But of course, that was in the days before chat rooms and Facebook, MySpace and online personal ads, when “online” conversations were the stuff of science fiction. Back in the day, too, it seems there weren’t so many teens with hour upon hour of time on their hands that could launch intense friendships without parents being any the wiser.

That may be conjecture, but if so, it is arguably one held by many who didn’t grow up with the Web. The belief things haven’t changed that much may well be why those who are parents can easily swat away concerns about how young teens have replaced what were once real-time, out-in-the-open flirtations and friendships with online psychological games. But the reality is that’s just what has happened throughout the world as many people — not just teens — star in their own online soap operas.

Perhaps what is so chilling about this play, “dark play or stories for boys” by Carlos Murillo, is that anyone who was a teen can understand how easily this story could become reality. Take a young man — in this case Nick as brilliantly portrayed in wide-eyed wonder and smart-guy bravado by James Flanagan — who creates online personalities to satisfy his teenage desires and fantasies. Nick knows his way around Web sites and as a teenage boy himself knows what other young guys seek in their first loves.

“Accident waiting to happen” is the only phrase that comes to mind when you realize Nick has pounced upon another young man’s online cry for love. In fact, the online words “I want to fall in love” in something akin to a chat room confessional or personal ad are what draw Nick to Adam.

Brandon McCoy is the perfect characterization of Adam, a na•ve, lonely and frustrated young teen with just the right amount of awkward geekiness who believes Nick’s messages are from Rachel, the girl of his dreams. Call Nick perverse for luring Adam to his Web cam to prove his love for Rachel. Call them both hopeless romantics — or at least impulsive and unsophisticated — for believing the other’s stories and then acting out their own form of love when they meet in person. But don’t call any of this unrealistic.

This play is made even more sobering when you look at the few other characters that dot the landscape — Nick’s college theatre teacher, his real-life college girlfriend, and even the imagined Rachel’s stepfather.

But of course none of that would matter without Flanagan’s just-wise-enough characterization of the ultimately lonely Nick as the seducer and ultimate tormenter of the wide-eyed Adam. Both young men seek love, but are almost destroyed by their online encounter.

In the quaint old days of romance, Public Service Announcements often asked “Do You Know Where Your Children Are?” In this age of multi-media relationships, it’s a wise question to revisit.