These high school “boys” are Ivy League champion debaters are in the space for the real time 70 minutes of the play to prepare for their affirmative side of the debate to the set topic that “feminism has failed women.”  Boy, did this play bring back memories of my high school years, when, as a member of a debate team, I was arguing  cases on topics that were way beyond my 17 years.  

The play starts off with wild and chaotic brainstorming and whiteboarding their arguments, the guys puff their chests, manspread, and mansplain while exposing shades of toxic masculinity, privilege, and phony sensitivity.  One character relentlessly claims, “I love women.” It’s apparent that the four don’t have a clue about their debate arguments, but they do believe shouting them out will lead them to victory. That’s what matters. It’s “how tomorrow’s power players are built,”

Then after an a disturbing assertation of sexual assault to one of their girlfriends arriving via an Instagram post, the play gets suddenly seriously. How can any teenage boy claim to be a true feminist? Isn’t it in direct contradiction to his hormonal storm?

I thought the play had a most interesting premise – – – and the second half of the play, when all the elaborate theatrics settled down a bit, really made for some interesting questions – – – but I sorely missed caring about these people.  They just spent the play as mouthpieces of ideas and not people to connect with.  I was left thinking at the end of the play but, ultimately, feeling cold.  If I had felt for them, I believe it would have been a much richer experience.  I also felt the play started with so much theatricality of flashing lights, dancing, direct address and gimmicks, that it took me too long to figure out the given circumstances of the play.  It was just so much flash.  Gratefully, this slowed down a bit in the end of the play.  I wanted to love this play but then I didn’t care about the characters and found the “flash” to hold the play down rather than lift the story up.