Nick Robideau’s 2017 play “Inanimate,” now in its Midwest premiere at Theater Wit, explores widely relatable themes through the lens of a highly specific, little-understood experience. On its face, it’s an unconventional romance about a 30-year-old woman who falls in love with a Dairy Queen sign. But in Robideau’s hands, this quirky love story has a lot to say about loneliness, empathy and the universal need to be fully seen and accepted.
When we meet Erica (J.G. Smith), she is working at a grocery store in her small Massachusetts hometown and living with her older sister, a local politician named Trish (Jodi Gage). While navigating grief over her mother’s recent death, Erica is also coming to terms with her sexuality, which she’s been aware of since adolescence but doesn’t yet have the language to describe. She’s objectum sexual: a real type of orientation characterized by emotional, romantic or sexual attraction to inanimate objects.
Directed by Jeremy Wechsler, “Inanimate” brings Erica’s world to life through a chorus of actors playing personified objects (Khloe Janel, Erin Long and Dustin Valenta), including a teddy bear, a lamp and a can opener. Although she claims to know that they aren’t literally speaking to her, Erica senses — and Robideau scripts — dialogue from the objects to which she responds in two-way conversations. Not every object is a romantic interest; some are comforting confidants or snarky sidekicks. But when she gets caught in an intimate moment at work, she loses her job and becomes the target of vicious small-town gossip.
Feeling ostracized, Erica finds solace in her newfound love, the glowing red sign at her local Dairy Queen — or Dee, as she calls him — played by Aaron Latterell. Costume designer Mara Blumenfeld dresses all the personified objects in clothes that nod to their inanimate forms. Dee’s all-black outfit is topped with a jacket made of transparent red plastic and warmly illuminated by lighting designer Levi Wilkins. With a sculpted jawline, smoldering gaze and impeccable posture, Latterell embodies the stoic, dependable — and, yes, sexy — man that Erica sees in Dee.
If this sounds like a wild ride, you’re not wrong. “Inanimate” is the first piece of theater, or any other art form, I’ve encountered that addresses objectum sexuality. In a meta comment, Erica bemoans the lack of representation in pop culture. It’s one reason why she knows so little about her own orientation; the first time she Googled it, she was scared off by headlines about weird fetishes. Robideau’s script balances playful humor — which always has the audience laughing with, never at, Erica — with a compassionate take on a misunderstood phenomenon. In a study published after “Inanimate” premiered, objectum sexuality was linked to autism and synesthesia, but Robideau is careful not to pathologize Erica. Rather, he invites open-minded viewers to understand someone who experiences the world differently.
Luckily for Erica, she finds an empathetic companion in Kevin, a former high school classmate who has been serving her Blizzards on her daily visits to Dairy Queen. William Anthony Sebastian Rose II gives a charming, funny performance as the nerdy friend who has been nursing a crush on Erica for years. After some awkward romantic miscues, she opens up to him about her sexuality. Having navigated his own coming out as bi- or pansexual (he refuses labels), Kevin helps Erica learn about her orientation and connect with an online community of similar people. It makes all the difference for Erica to find others who are like her and a friend who accepts her authentic self. There’s much to relate to here for anyone who’s ever had to hide a part of themselves, whether related to sexuality or not.
Erica and Kevin’s relationship is so well developed that it leaves little room for other storylines, such as Erica’s relationship with Trish. A provincial caricature who’s more concerned with her political prospects than with helping her sister, Trish mainly serves as a one-dimensional foil to Kevin’s kindness.
Still, “Inanimate” is a warmhearted, expansive story about living authentically and accepting others for who they are. Although its climactic scene stretched my suspension of disbelief, there was never a dull moment thanks to Robideau’s clever dialogue, a cast that fully commits to the play’s eccentricities and the important truths at its core.
Review: “Inanimate” (3 stars)
When: Through May 4
Where: Theater Wit, 1229 W. Belmont Ave.
Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes
Tickets: $18-$55 at 773-975-8150 and theaterwit.org
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