Data – 22 January 2026

Set in the not too distant future, a highly plausible possibility surfaces of a software engineering company. Packed with ethical questions, Data brings forth a story that reverses the typical sci-fi narrative about men becoming machines, and instead provide provides a tale of people in tech whose profound commitment to their humanity interferes with their ability to be cogs in an unjust machine. At a time when faith and trust in our world is eroding, Data shares a startling message of hope that real, live people are analyzing the potential harm and applications of their creations, and choosing to be brave in the face of lifelong, irrevocable consequences, ultimately choosing to do what is right, instead of what is convenient. Despite the pervasive stress and pressure that scaffolded the show’s mysterious, dramatic atmosphere, the message of the play was hopeful and inspiring.

The scene transitions in Data involved a dark stage, framed with blue and white strip lights (lighting design: Amith Chandrashaker) that pulsated in time was sound design and original music (Daniel Kluger) that contained a vibe not unlike a pounding human heart surrounded by a world of electronic confusion. These moments occurred with every change of scene or flash in time, and after a while began to feel like a human brain in an MRI machine – under a microscope, as it were. All of these moments added up to the feeling that the audience was not watching the story unfold objectively, but was rather inside protagonist Maneesh (Karan Brar)’s head as he was processing the data of his memories of the moments that led him to risk professional blacklisting, as if testing, whether or not this conclusion was inevitable. At the end of the show, Maneesh plays ping-pong, with himself, against the wall. He is clearly still at war with himself, feeling the rhythmic pulse of his brain, like the rhythmic sound of the game of ping-pong (representing the dangerous game he is playing with his employer, the algorithm he created, and his ethical compass). Though ping-pong (and life) is a game he used to play with others, the final moments of the play show Maneesh seriously testing the idea of what it could mean to be isolated and alone.

Performance wise, Riley (Sophia Lillis) stood out as the most dynamic and complex, which is probably because she was the most real and complicated part of Maneesh’s mental equation. Alex (Justin H. Min), the heartless, villain, was one dimensional and stress provoking. Jonah (Brandon Flynn) brought a very necessary comedic levity as the typical tech bro. He represents a foil to Riley as someone who is willing to give up his moral fortitude in order to be a bigger part of something lucrative. Yet even Jonah is more human than not – he is clearly longing to be loved more than he is desiring job security. His liability and anxiety read very clearly to the audience. At the same time, Jonah reveals the clear and present danger of the idea that for every person who is willing to do something that is right, there are people willing to look the other way.

Data closely examines questions about the objectivity of numbers, and whether our humanity comes from inherent goodness or being inherently flawed. Showing a wide spectrum of human expressiveness, Maneesh’s contemplations, thrill, frighten, and amaze. Most touching of all was his assertive conclusion that people can change. This is what sets people apart from mathematical data. And it is beautiful to watch. Data is throbbingly enticing, and a truly chilling journey that is important both as a cautionary tale and a depiction of what true heroism looks like in the digital age.

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