Is your life online really private? This play might make you think twice

Posted on 2 March, 2023

What would you do if you came across a voicemail message that revealed the intimate details of someone’s life?

I Have No Enemies, which has taken to the stage at Ainslie and Gorman Arts Centre, is artistic director Christopher Samuel Carroll’s response to this very question.

Working as a contractor for a transcription service at the time, Chris would transcribe files typically centred around office meetings and conferences—that is, of course, until he hit play on an unknown voice recording that contained a tidal wave of confidential information.

Looking inward (and to his phone screen), Chris began to question if any of us could have done the same. Do we all reveal too much? What hands does our information touch? Are we just as vulnerable as each other?

It was from these poignant questions that I Have No Enemies was born.

“One day, there was this audio file that was a seven-minute voicemail by this guy where he—in the course of this self-propelled not quite rant—unloaded to whoever he was leaving this voicemail for [and] disclosed all his personal information about his life.”

“And this was just fascinating to me. It made me think of my own ongoing anxieties about all the personal information that we have that’s out there in the world and that it’s passing through the hands of who knows? Maybe someone like me, an underpaid contractor, for a transcription service with no real accountability or oversight,” says Chris.

The play has transformed into what Chris describes as a “thought experiment” guided by the hilariously witty actors who suck you into the plotline and offer sure footing to wade through these complex and, at times, disarming conversations.

Where one character tries to delete their Gmail and go ‘off the grid’, another calls for a revolution without having any idea about technology themselves. The tech wizz of the group suggests that old-school chat boards and daggy HTML websites are the only way forward, claiming that “technology is not evil—it’s just the way we use it”, each voicing a perspective that is not only sharp, funny, goofily grim and oddly uplifting but profoundly human too.

“Myself and the other actors unfold this story of tracking the guy behind the voicemail down and the various means by which we do that,” explains Christopher. “In a way, you want to help the characters and intervene, so there’s that kind of voyeurism where you are becoming an agent provocateur.”

“But then there is this whole other narrative drive where we as actors are not experts in this subject but are trying to find out about it. We’ve got all these different perspectives playing as we grapple with these big subjects that are entirely ill-equipped to grapple with in the first place.”

“And so, the relatability is that, hopefully, people can see something of their own experience in trying to navigate living within this split reality. As well as being a fun way of illuminating the vulnerability of engaging in the digital world.”

As the characters (and us as the audience) walk the fine line of laughter and existentialism, the play’s creative multimedia elements heighten the experience. Without giving too much away, Chris reflects on one scene in particular, highlighting how the digital elements of production details interact with the characters on stage.

“We have some really cool people from a local company called Silversun Pictures in Watson putting together the digital elements for this production, which is new and interesting territory for me. Because there are times when having a visual representation or the presence of technology in the digital space is valuable.”

“For example, there’s a point where we’re hunting down Phil (the guy from recording), and we get access to his Google Nest and smartwatch. And it means that we can record his body temperature and heart rate, pulse, step count, stress level, and blood oxygen level. And so we’ve got all this projected on a screen.”

While audiences may be left reflecting on what it might take for us to use our phones less, Chris says that art forms such as theatre point towards a promising solution. As the lights dim and the curtains rise, we can become lost in a moment of realness, authenticity, and connection that feels encountered as opposed to created.

“I was doing up my director’s programme notes the other day and just came back to the idea of art as a resistance to distraction. Part of the great value of coming to a live show is actually not looking at your phone for a couple of hours, being able to say, ‘I’m not available now. I can’t respond to messages’. ‘I’m here, and this is what I’m giving my attention to, and there’s no temptation to flick to something else’.”

Chris also notes that it’s rare to find works so intimately based in Canberra, encouraging us to not only pause before we send voice recordings detailing our entire lives out into the world but to support the depth of talent that flows throughout our city too.

“There’s plenty of work that’s made in Canberra and of existing, older plays, but you don’t often get the opportunity to see something that is brand new, created by Canberra artists that has ambition and innovation, and is something a bit different. I hope audiences follow their curiosity, come and watch the play and take pride in the work that’s being made here,” says Christopher.

Feature image by Novel Photographic