On a recent episode of the On Point podcast about screen time in the home, experts offered advice such as putting phones on airplane mode during dinner to facilitate family interaction. This play does the exact opposite by quite literally placing a device as a centerpiece on the dinner table.

Dinner with Aurora features the eponymous, sassy, digital assistant, plus a soon-to-be-wed couple and their polar opposite parents meeting for the first time. Add some guinea fowl, potatoes, and wine; then watch the family drama unfold.

Lee Simmonds’ play was selected as one of four winning scripts in this year’s Oxford University Dramatic Society New Writing Festival. I was attracted to the description of a “comedy drama… examining family, technology, and truth” and wondered if the play would be along the lines of a Black Mirror episode.

The idea of exploring the dark side of ‘smart speakers’ in the home is timely, but I did not love the execution. From the outset, the amount of swearing and yelling seemed unnecessary. The friction between characters could have been brought about more elegantly in other ways; though yes, it gave us a clear picture that the bride, Mona (Nicole Jacobus), and groom, Damian (Isaac Troughton), are not a match made in heaven, nor do the parents get along wonderfully with their children. The play is advertised as ‘equal parts tense drama and hysterical comedy’ – perhaps a quiet, seething, tension would have been more comedic to watch, rather than the cacophony of expletives. Additionally, the choking, kicking under the table, and fainting seemed over-the-top. I am certain the actors had a ball rehearsing these parts - the choking scene was convincing - but I am not sure what it was doing to drive the play forward or unfold the characters further. If the aim was to add physical comedy, it somehow felt out of place in Simmonds’ “cerebral exploration” of family and technology.

I often encounter shows where I don’t like some of the characters because they are deceitful, forgetful, or rude, but at least there is one or more characters that you know you are ‘supposed to be’ rooting for. In Dinner with Aurora, I was not sure who to cheer on, nor would I have liked to have any of them around for dinner. The fiancés and their parents, as well as Aurora, were convincingly sketched as exhibiting a range of negative qualities, from scheming to hard-headed, but I had difficulty in finding a redeeming quality to latch onto in any of the characters. The cast successfully portrayed the uncomfortableness of a family dinner gone wrong to the point where I was feeling their dread and unease.

In a session on how to tell a good story, I learned to “arrive late and leave early.” Dinner with Aurora begins with Mona folding napkins and Aurora (invisible to the actors except for her voice), wandering the dining area out of boredom. I would have liked to dive in a bit later, which possibly Simmonds was looking to achieve when Damian yells about scalding his hand on a pan as his grand entrance. In terms of the ending, but without giving away too much, I felt like the story ended on the climax and we did not get a proper denouement as outlined by a classical dramatic structure. Perhaps Simmonds was going for an edgy, leave-early ending, which is what I experienced, but I found the lack of resolution unsatisfying.

Overall, I enjoyed how the Tara Madsen's Aurora shifted around stage, filling in the gaps, and expressing boredom when her services were not requested for several minutes. She made for an entertaining, 21st century antagonist. I had expected the play to focus on a human versus technology conflict, but we eventually have the climax as a child versus parent conflict, with Aurora being the facilitator, which made for an interesting twist in more ways than one.

If you would like to witness this modern-day meal with an ‘uninvited’ guest, you can see Dinner with Aurora at Burton Taylor Studio this Thursday and Saturday night.