Angry Alan – 17 July 2025

John Krasinski stars as Roger in this incredible (mostly) one man show about masculinity’s societal constraints in an increasingly feminist (western) world. Angry Alan follows Roger’s journey from his discovery of an online men’s rights activist using the name “Angry Alan” who empowers Roger to embrace the inherent goodness of men. Some of these points are (arguably) valid about how society defines the role of men as heroes, providers, and financial resources. The statistics Roger cites in this show about custody court bias being skewed towards women and suicide rates being predominantly men, are true. When Roger takes things too far and becomes an extremist, he alienates the non-men in his life in ways that are irreparable. At the end of the play, he finds himself alone and falls victim to loneliness—perhaps the greatest factor in mental health challenges. Devoting his life to men’s rights and Alan comes at the expense of a Roger who was genuinely likable and sweet at the beginning of the show. At the end, despite being clad in the same clothes and sitting in the same place, Roger is unrecognizable.

Krasinski did a phenomenal job navigating a minefield of material that could have quickly become a turn off for the audience. When he recounted the details of conversations with the women in Roger’s life, he did so without sarcasm, attitude, or any kind of judgment. This made him seem objective, and was one of many factors that led the audience to sympathize with Roger for so long despite his misguided motives. Krasinski also leaned into Roger’s genuine curiosity and best of intentions. There were moments in which Roger was genuinely empowered by feeling like he could be a father or an intellectual or accomplished in some way—empowering people who have lost their children, their jobs, their spouses, and their lives is not necessarily inherently bad. Where it became toxic was when Roger began to think about the superiority of men and the need to take from women to gain (or, in his mind, regain) sovereignty and power.

The point where it all sours is when Roger attends the men’s rights conference. The people onstage around him are fake people, which is actually quite brilliant given that what he’s caught up in is completely fake. The journalist who Roger speaks to in the parking lot informs him that his donations to male mental health didn’t go to any organizations or nonprofits and were, in fact, going directly to Alan’s personal pockets; this should have shaken Roger. Yet nowhere in the play does he seek the truth about that donation. His quest for knowledge has ended and is as fake as the conference and, to some extent, the movement. He is now in the territory of blind belief. Perhaps this is what prevents him from reading the book his fourteen year old brings him. Perhaps this is what closes him off to his girlfriend’s fear of his power hungry attempts at interpersonal dominance.  Perhaps the second his need for mental health help crosses the line is the pivot when he sees his rights and desires as not just salient and superior but unilaterally important at the exclusion of all else.

As a transgender person, I was really rooting for Roger to make peace with his child’s identity. But I was also kind of relieved that Angry Alan made that unthinkable. The most important message of this play is that once someone is a radical extremist, there is no quick-fix, moment-of-clarity happy ending. Roger doesn’t just switch back to being a nice guy in the eyes of society—he can’t. We’ve seen him laugh at rape jokes. We’ve seen him reject his only child. We’ve seen him become enraged in ways that frighten away his long term partner. He can’t go back to likable and we can’t go back to liking him. More than anything, this show speaks to the damage of extremism and how dangerous cycles feed back into themselves when anger and aggression and dominance rule someone’s life. Towards the end, we almost fall into pitying Roger because, in some ways, he is the victim of wanting to feel better about himself—which shouldn’t be a crime. However, it’s a fine line to walk when feeling better about oneself is at the expense of another. Angry Alan serves to show us how fine this line is, and asks poignant questions about how the gender binary does and does not dictate how we live, think, and feel.

I attended this performance on a press pass from Polk & Co.