“It’s not enough to be programmed to say something funny. You’ve got to feel it’s funny. That’s what comedy is — a human reaction, not a mechanical reflex.”
This line nicely reflects the play’s central theme: while technology can mimic human behaviour, true creativity, humour, and emotional depth are innately human qualities. It serves as a cautionary reminder to be wary of replacing genuine human expression with soulless AI automation.
The Blackwood Players’ latest production brings Alan Ayckbourn’s Comic Potential to life breathing air into a witty, satirical script that feels as fresh today as when it was first penned in 1998. Set in a near-future television studio where android actors—“actoids”—have replaced their human counterparts, the play explores the blurred lines between artificial intelligence (AI), human emotion, and the essence of comedy itself. The fine line of what’s funny to one is not necessarily amusing for another.
At the heart of the story is the charmingly malfunctioning actoid, Jacie Tripplethree, played with excellent physical delivery and comic timing by Amber Faull. Jacie’s unexpected capacity for humour challenges the very idea of what it means to be “human” in a mechanised world. Amber’s facial expressions were a particular highlight, shifting seamlessly from blank mechanical stares to wide-eyed curiosity and unexpected bursts of human-like emotion. Not an easy task but executed beautifully—bringing warmth and heart to the role and making her journey from glitchy robot to comic sensation both hilarious and genuinely touching. A very contagious laugh to boot!
As the well-connected and aspiring writer Adam Trainsmith, dares to challenge the status quo and wholeheartedly believes in Jacie’s comic potential we see Adam Schultz. He captures the character’s passion and commitment to artistry, and his unbounded love for Jacie displaying a resolute 100% commitment to a life with an AI.
Along the way, Jacie and Adam clash with the bombastic and egotistical director Chandler Tate, played by Damien White—a former visionary now reduced to churning out formulaic drivel. Damien captures the fall from creative genius to bitter, alcoholic veteran with flair. His enthusiastic performance makes Tate’s frustrations crystal clear, leaving no room for ambiguity.
Erin McAllister plays the ambitious and ruthless studio executive Carla Pepperbloom, obsessed with ratings, control, and corporate success. Erin physically dominates the stage, making it clear who’s in charge—until Carla is finally undone by the forces of justice and android made of metal. Ouch! Her sharp wit and manipulative presence make her a formidable antagonist throughout.
Rebecca Gardner, in the role of Prim Spring, shone as the overworked technical professional caught between corporate demands and creative needs. Her performance was sound and believable, offering the audience a much-needed moment of empathetic understanding when the pressure mounts for Jacie.
Ayckbourn populates this world with a colourful ensemble of secondary actoids and self-serving studio staff, each adding variety and texture to the evening. A standout among the supporting cast was Mathew Chant, who played four different characters with lovely truthful characterisation and well placed energy in his delivery. Other supporting cast members included Geoff Hastwell, Philip Lineton, Eleanor-Mae Lawson and Stephanie Russell. A special mention from me for Jonathan Montgomery who displayed some brave choices in his performance and watch this space, as at only 17 he brought confidence and imagination to the three different characters he played.
The set design for Comic Potential was refreshingly simple, embracing its limitations to great effect. With minimal props and basic staging, the production avoided unnecessary spectacle, allowing the focus to remain firmly on the costumes, characters and their interactions. This stripped-back approach cleverly echoed the play’s themes of artificiality and mass-produced entertainment, mirroring the sterile, utilitarian feel of a low-budget TV studio. Far from detracting from the show, the simplicity of the set created a blank canvas that highlighted both the actors’ physicality and the script’s sharp dialogue.
The use of live camera feed and on-screen projection added a clever, dynamic layer to the studio scenes, enhancing the play’s satire of artificial entertainment. Watching the “broadcast” version in real-time was effective and often very funny. However, in more intimate, off-air scenes, keeping the screen active occasionally distracted from the action on stage. Switching it off during these quieter moments would sharpen its impact and keep the focus where it belongs.
In an era where AI-generated content is becoming increasingly sophisticated, Comic Potential feels more relevant than ever. Alan Ayckbourn’s witty yet cautionary tale reminds us that while machines may replicate words and gestures, true creativity is—and must remain—uniquely human.
By Larry Waller
