As I stood with the rest of the audience, clapping vigorously in reverence for the actors and actresses in PCPA’s latest show, I knew that Distracted was the play for the lost generation, the distracted generation. Just as Death of a Salesman spoke to those who had suffered greatly from the ridiculous demands of society’s American Dream, Distracted addresses the idea that recent generations have been handicapped by fast-paced Sesame Street, MTV, a seemingly infinite amount of reality TV shows, and Google—though Google is all knowing and all powerful. Who can blame it?
Playwright Lisa Loomer—screenwriter of Girl, Interrupted—was inspired to write the play because she noticed America consumes up to 85 percent of the world’s Ritalin. There’s a lot to say about a society with a population that strives for normalcy from itself. Why else would a parent put a child on Ritalin—a class two amphetamine that sits among methamphetamine and morphine?
All of the crises facing the recent generation are plugged into a comical play that hits on anxieties in relationships nearly broken due to Mama’s relentless search for a cure for her son Jesse’s lack of focus—something his teacher (Kitty Balay-Genge), psychologist (Peter Hadres), homeopath, neuropsychologist, and environmental physician are hasty to diagnose. However, Jesse’s father (Andrew Philpot) disagrees with the medical community.
“He’s a boy,” cries Dad as Mama (Elizabeth Stuart) considers putting Jesse on Ritalin. “Name one person that’s a good listener.”
Dad isn’t trying to neglect his son—in fact, he believes drugging his 9-year-old is negligence—but he wants his boy to live a childhood with free will, as all children should.
Loomer continues to bring to light the horrors of Ritalin with Mama’s line: “Maybe Ritalin will be a better mom than I was.” Provocative, but the truth isn’t always pleasing like a massage. Mama is faced with a dilemma she shares with the other moms of the neighborhood—in a situation reminiscent of Desperate Housewives: Should she endanger her child with a possibly addictive and dangerous pill? Or, if she doesn’t drug her child, can she bear the ridicule of the other parents?
But who’s at fault for Jesse’s behavioral problems? There are many suspects, all moving at the breakneck pace of the Google Age, when information can be accessed in the palm of your hands, anytime, anywhere. This is a generation for which knowledge isn’t sacred anymore—because you don’t need a PhD to know astrophysics, you just need an Internet connection.
Or maybe Jesse is acting out because he’s only yearning for attention from his parents.
For those who don’t suffer from a nonexistent attention span (as I scan my iTunes for appropriate music to accompany the sound of constant tapping from my keyboard, which soon becomes refreshing my Facebook page and then looking at photos, I notice that I have the attention span of a goldfish), the set for Distracted features eight video screens playing nonstop, everything from President Bush’s “Mission Accomplished” speech to a joke about how America elected, twice, a president who can’t focus.
The play includes a scene where Mama and Dad are dining at a sports bar, which, in this society, is a breeding place for absent attention spans. In the scene, a spaced-out waitress gazing at a football game unconsciously sabotages Mama and Dad’s only date night of the week.
Everyone has fallen prey to technology in Distracted, where father and son only bond from the glare of the television, the ring of a cell phone interrupts every conversation, and the only way someone can communicate is by the isolation of instant messaging.
Anyone interested in seeing the downfall of society due to the booming rate of communicative and news media should be forewarned: This play has mature language and themes.
Intern Henry Houston is too distracted to write his own tagline. Send comments to intern@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in Sep 3-10, 2009.
