Have you seen the ads for the new Meta AI “Muse”? I’ve been bombarded with them lately. “It’ll help sort out your inbox and clear your schedule” the ads claim, “it’ll shop for you!” Hang on, shop for me? Like Aye Caesar? Yes, just like Carolyn Fe’s existential thriller, a fiction no longer. Truly a story about how elderly folks are preyed upon in our technologically advanced society, as well as the dangers of loneliness, Aye Caesar, directed by Tanisha Taitt, is as heartbreaking as it is terrifying.
Brenda lives on her own, and because of the pain in her back, she often finds herself up late into the night. So, like most of us, she engages in a little bit of retail therapy to put herself in a better mood. But with her arthritis, it can be hard to navigate the website of her favourite stationery store, so she asks for the help of their online shopping assistant: Aye. Soon, Brenda and Aye form a friendship, using the site’s video chat service to speak to one another every few days. Aye even helps inspire Brenda to begin to write down her late husband’s story, even though her memory isn’t always the most chronological. But when the website has to do maintenance and Brenda can’t talk to Aye any longer, who will she turn to?
Photo by Mathieu Taillardas
I first encountered Aye Caesar as a staged reading at Summerworks in 2024. At that time, AI was still something few people had access to, and we didn’t really know how it was going to impact our daily lives. Flash forward just two years and here we are, having to actively turn off the AI functions on our phones and constantly question if what we’re seeing on the internet is real, or some AI “creation”. Yet Fe totally nailed the ways in which AI has been used to convince us it’s harmless and just another tool we can use. Like this Muse thing: he’s a cute little fluffy monster-looking fellow who’s there to be your personal assistant, just as Aye has a sweet, welcoming face and cheery voice, and is happy to help Brenda spend the money she doesn’t have. The way that this went from a more sci-fi feel to being a horrific part of our reality boggles the mind. In just two years I went from thinking “wouldn’t that be freaky?” to getting ads for the exact same thing put in front of my face every time I try to play a game or go on social media.
Yet another enduring aspect of Fe’s text is the emphasis on how this technology impacts lonely seniors, as we watch Brenda come to rely on Aye more for emotional support than anything else. During both viewings I’ve had the same feelings of pity and empathy for Brenda: she really just needs someone to talk to. With her husband being gone for 5 years now and no kids mentioned, poor Brenda is on her own. Which also means that she likely hasn’t had the help from those younger than her to help her differentiate reality from fiction online. Most of us have had an older family member accidentally fall for some scam which then either wipes their computer clean or nearly robs them of all of their money. It’s devastating, and without others to help them navigate these new scammer tactics, it’s easy to see how it can happen. Aye Caesar is a poignant reminder to check in on our elderly neighbours and relatives, give a helping hand when you can.
Photo by Mathieu Taillardas
Tanisha Taitt’s set design for this production is cozy, and makes you automatically know that someone’s grandma lives in this little house. Memories of Brenda’s husband still remain throughout the home: his hat and sweater hang on the wall; the table still has two chairs set around it. His presence is keenly felt, even though we never get a chance to meet him. Christopher-Elizabeth’s lighting design certainly deserves mention, as they’re able to make it obvious when Brenda is scrolling through the different products, and even more importantly when her photo is being taken by Aye. Because the play can feel static at times, these lighting elements become all the more essential to our understanding of the story.
Carolyn Fe stars as Brenda, and she gives a heartrending performance. At times, Brenda is fun and so present, and then she drifts away to a place of memory and my heart sinks. Fe gives this role her all, bringing a ferocity when it’s needed and such softness to other moments. April Leung plays Aye, and she’s able to do so much storytelling with just her facial expressions and tone of voice. As a former customer service rep myself, I would give anything to have had Aye’s level of composure when on a call, and Leung portrays that cool resolve beautifully. The two of them work excellently well together despite the fact that they don’t physically interact, and yet you can easily feel their connection with one another growing.
Aye Caesar is a pointed reminder of the real community we tend to neglect when we go online, the real people who are looking for the company of other real people. Brenda so clearly just wants someone to talk to, it’s just a shame that she doesn’t realize that it’s not a real human on the other end of the video call. Aye Caesar reminds us to check in on our neighbours, call an elderly relative, and do what we can to create real community in the real world.
Aye Caesar runs at the Red Sandcastle Theatre until October 4. For more information and tickets, visit: https://eldritchtheatre.ca/ayecaesar/
Cover Photo: Carolyn Fe. Photo by Mathieu Taillardas.
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