This is my far-too-long review and analysis of ‘Asuncion’, written by Jesse Eisenberg and directed by Kip Fagan. Be aware there are many spoilers, and I even discuss the ending, so please do not read this if you don’t wish to know anything that occurs in the show. Also please be aware this is a play still in previews, and things very well might change in the coming weeks. I will be seeing the show again in November, and I can add an update to my already far-too-long review at that time.

Asuncion is a very funny play about things that are not particularly funny. It is a play about elitism, selfishness, dependence, racism, deceit, submission, first-world problems, and third-world assumptions. But mostly I found it to be a play about the gnawing, aching, awkward ways we connect – or don’t – with one another as human beings.

The play opens with Vinny (played perfectly by Justin Bartha), a Black Studies professor with a penchant for pretentious overtures, smoking weed in his messy beatnik apartment and banging out a tribal rhythm on what I’m sure Vinny thought was an authentic African drum, but actually looked suspiciously like a Cuban Bata to me (I don’t know if that prop choice was intentional, but it certainly fit with the themes of the play). Soon his frenetic and twitchy roommate, Edgar, stumbles in (played by Jesse Eisenberg, who also wrote the play), bleeding from the head and telling Vinny how he was beat up by some ruffians who stole his wallet. Vinny sits him down and cleans his wound, and Edgar asks if Vinny has seen his cell phone anywhere in the apartment because he apparently has lost it. Vinny mocks Edgar for even asking that, saying that obviously his attackers must have stolen it along with his wallet. Edgar is aghast, and says, “Vinny, don’t you think it’s a little racist you assume they stole my cell phone just because they were black?” To which Vinny replies that Edgar never mentioned they were black.

This is one of the many moments in the play in which the characters attempt to one-up each other with their superior racial sensitively and cultural literacy, only to find themselves fumbling along the way. Vinny frequently quotes Malcom X to chastise Edgar—or was it MLK?—and Edgar constantly references the things he learned during his time spent with the people of Cambodia as he proselytizes about the world writ large (but we later come to discover this ‘time spent’ was only a two-day layover). They both rely on a barrage of esoteric citations, publications, historical events, exaggerated anecdotes, and misattributed quotes to glue one pretentious point to the next, hinging each little enlightened ornament onto their argument to give it a glint of authenticity. In these exchanges, Vinny reminds you of the professor you had in college who was surely more worldly and well-read than you, but still gave you the distinct air of absolute bullshit. And Edgar was the student in every discussion section or seminar you had who would use an avalanche of ten-dollar words and carefully memorized footnotes to flood his insubstantial arguments, making your your eyes roll almost involuntarily.

Vinny was actually Edgar’s professor several years ago and—for some reason which is not explained to us—Vinny let Edgar move in at some point despite the fact that Edgar is a struggling journalist who doesn’t contribute much to the rent. He makes up for it, though, by waiting on Vinny hand and foot, tending to his every need and bending his life around Vinny’s preferences (for example, he always lets the tap run for a long time when he’s getting Vinny a glass of water because Vinny likes it cold—and, to offset the environmental impact of having to run the water so long to make Vinny’s cup just the right temperature, Edgar exiles himself to taking extremely short showers). Edgar is Vinny’s pet, whipping boy, punching bag, and—most of all—his audience. But we never get the sense that Edgar is Vinny’s friend—which is exactly what Edgar so desperately wants.

Their relationship becomes even more complex when Edgar’s brother shows up unannounced with his new Filipino bride, saying she needs to stay with Edgar and Vinny for a few days, offering no explanation for why this would be (though he hints at troubles—most likely with the law). Edgar immediately rejects having her stay, saying it would upset Vinny (showing again how deep his affection—perhaps even obsession—with Vinny goes, since he’d rather abandon his brother than even momentarily upset Vinny). But it turns out Vinny is cool with the arrangement, and as soon as Asuncion strolls in (played by the brilliantly funny Camille Mana), everything changes.

Asuncion is a fun-loving, lively, patient, and very sweet woman who is very friendly and eager to get to know her new brother-in-law. Edgar is a different story. He immediately starts observing Asuncion—getting to know her not as a person, but as an almost anthropological experiment. He patches together the thinnest of facts about her Southeast Asian origin along with a wide heap of his own assumptions, and gets it into his head that she must be a mail order bride. Then, with Vinny’s encouragement, he decides to take notes on her every action, word, and mannerism to write a profile of what he perceives to be her sad, brave little life. He gets the grandiose idea in his head that he will turn this profile into an article—THE article—the one to make him a star journalist (“Pulitzer!” he squeaks from the edge of stage, electrified by the idea).

His aggressively anti-ethnocentric stance immediately becomes juxtaposed by his selfish actions. He meets Asuncion and instantly sees her as a project, not a person—and he wants to know her story not because she is his sister-in law, but so he can use it to propel his non-existent journalistic career. Asuncion, on the other hand, is endlessly kind and patient with Edgar, willing to even listen to him read some of his horrible writing in an effort to get to know him. She tries to genuinely connect with Edgar, and all the while he does nothing but treat her as a subject (though she does not know what he’s up to until the crumbling final act).

The fact is, Edgar thinks of himself as particularly altruistic and enlightened, but he is actually kind of a jerk. And that is what Asuncion seems to be about on the surface—a story about two guys who think they’re worldly and wise but are actually just a pair of misguided, naive jackasses (which perhaps we all are).

But to me, that was actually the least interesting aspect of the play.

The most interesting part was the complex and shifting relationships between these three characters, and what those relationships reveal about them as people.

Edgar is easy to dislike because of how he treats Asuncion, but you cannot help but feel sorry for him at many points throughout the play. You can sense, even at the core of his selfishness, he means well somehow— and that he is the person he is principally because he is so used to being dumped by the people in his life (his brother’s casually cruel treatment of him makes that clear immediately). He garishly yearns for his life to be more—more successful, more enlightened, more worthy, more appealing to Vinny—but he seems lost in knowing how to get there. And that is something universally relatable. The most heart-wrenching part of the play for me was a scene where Asuncion and Vinny (who get along famously!) are sharing an inside joke and a fond recounting of a recent drug-induced adventure, and Edgar listens with a mix of wide-eyed wonder and corrosive envy. He asks why he wasn’t invited, and Vinny tells him in no uncertain terms that he’s not fun. Edgar interjects into the continuing conversation several times that he is fun, but no one is listening. Finally, jutting over the edge of the couch, he screeches, “I’M FUN!” And you can feel how desperately he wants to will it to be true. And for Vinny, especially, to agree.

Edgar and Vinny’s relationships is the most complex and interesting aspect of the show. The play may be named after Asuncion, but it’s not a coincidence that both the first and final scenes of the play are just Edgar and Vinny. Edgar demonstrates a staggering amount of hero worship—he wants to do nothing more in his free time than help Vinny grade papers and fetch him bagels and listen to him talk about the world. There was something almost a bit disturbing about their relationship—about the easy way Vinny would use Edgar while constantly belittling him, and the even easier way Edgar would give and give and give again.

Edgar says during the very climax of the play (while on a shirtless acid trip) that he loves Vinny (and yes, you read that right – Jesse Eisenberg on a shirtless acid trip; go see the play folks). He says it several times, in fact. And he sputters out a confession about how much he wants to please Vinny, to make him happy, more than anything.  At one point he actually gets down on his knees and offers to fellate Vinny, if that would make him happy – and Vinny aggressively agrees, ripping off his pants and almost forcing Edgar to do it right there in the living room with Asuncion watching. This scene prompted riotous laughter from the audience because it was played out quite absurdly, and of course it was impossible not to laugh when acid-tripping-Justin-Bartha is standing there in green briefs, grabbing acid-tripping-Jesse-Eisenberg by the curls and demanding a blow job, with the excruciatingly funny Camille Mana pulling a face behind them. But there was something tinged too real here. In fact, if the play had been about five shades darker, I think it might come off not as a joke but as an unsettling, irrevocable, ripping moment.

Their relationship feels even further tipped off any axis of normalcy once Edgar finds out that Asuncion is obviously not a prostitute… and that Vinny knew that all along. And, despite knowing, had been prodding Edgar on and on and on about writing his article because—well, we don’t really know the reason. For his own amusement perhaps? Or to teach Edgar a lesson? The reason is unclear, but what is clear is the cruel effect it had both on Edgar and Asuncion. It also showed how easily Vinny is able to manipulate Edgar (and that perhaps he even enjoys it).

The final scene is once again just Vinny and Edgar. And it ends almost just as began, with Edgar leaping at the first thread of affection from Vinny, fine as it may be. I got the distinct sense that if this play had a third act, and was tinged more deeply dark, it would have turned into a full-on Secretary remake with Vinny as a domineering James Spader figure and Edgar as the submissive paper-pusher. There is a worrying, thin line between the overt aim of the play—to satirize the assumptive nature of a generation that has every fact about the world available at swipe of an iPhone but little actual knowledge or depth of understanding about the facts at their fingertips—and the actual drama at the core of the play, which is about these two characters and their disquieting relationship.

I thoroughly enjoyed the play, which was finely crafted by Eisenberg. It was a powerfully character-driven comedy that was thought-provoking in addition to being wildly funny, which is a rare find. The actors were all phenomenal, especially Justin Bartha (who settled so deeply into the character of Vinny that I could barely recognize him from Hollywood fare like The Hangover), and Camille Mana stole every scene effortlessly. As a sidenote, I must admit that one of my favorite parts of the night was when Justin accidentally dropped a blunt on the ground during a scene and Jesse had to throw in a moment of improv (Jesse almost cracked during this bit – you could see the smile just edging against his lips – but he kept it together and didn’t quite break). The real-life friendship between Justin and Jesse clearly fed into their chemistry on stage.

In the end, I was extremely pleased with the show – all I wish is that there had been more time spent elucidating Edgar and Vinny’s complexities as characters, and less time lambasting a generation that will surge a false MLK quote into going viral. Most of us probably know that reading The Economist does not a diplomat make, and that we’re all just a bit stupider – and good deal less grand – than we think we are.

But what none of us know is what happened to Edgar and Vinny next. And that is far more interesting to me, and a story only Eisenberg could tell.

There is a scene in the show where Edgar is talking to Asuncion, and is about to make a point, but then stops himself and says, “you know, there doesn’t always have to be a point, I don’t believe you always have to make a point.” I have to agree.

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Rattlestick Playwrights Theater presents the world premiere of

ASUNCION

A comedy by Jesse Eisenberg

Directed by Kip Fagan

Presented at the Cherry Lane Theatre from October 12th to November 27th 

Featuring: Remy Auberjonois, Justin Bartha, Jesse Eisenberg, and Camille Mana