In Ayad Akhtar's latest play, McNeal, there is a powerhouse performance being given by Robert Downey Jr. Known for his magnetic presence, he brings a complexity to the title role of Jacob McNeal whose razor-sharp intellect is at once riveting and repulsive. Downey Jr. taps into the character's morally charged exploration of genius, alcoholism, mental illness, ambition, cold calculation, a meager amount of guilt, a deeply flawed human and betrayal on all levels.
McNeal is a brilliant, pretentious writer whose ultimate dream is to win the Nobel Prize in Literature. And he does. But the journey to this pinnacle is steeped in deception, revealing a layered story of moral compromise of AI-generated work that in a sense plagiarizes the Bible, literary genius's and those closest to him, including his deceased wife. McNeal is an egotistical, self-righteous man whose charm is eclipsed only by his towering ambition. Downey's portrayal captures the arrogance of a writer who believes the world owes him recognition, while simultaneously revealing the fragility beneath -- a desperation to cement his place in literary history, even if it means cutting ethical corners. It's a layered, complicated performance that swings from moments of biting wit to haunting vulnerability.
The heart of the play revolves around McNeal's pursuit of literary greatness and his use of AI to augment his writing. Akhtar cleverly weaves in the question of what constitutes "true" creativity in an age where technology can simulate genius. McNeal, who prides himself on his intellectual prowess, allows AI to do the heavy lifting in his novels. But this isn't just a story about a man using technology to cheat; it's also a tragic tale of exploitation.
Akhtar's writing brings the weight of Jacob's choices to life, challenging the audience to wrestle with the consequences of a man whose brilliance is tarnished by theft and manipulation. The deeper tragedy is McNeal's belief is the ends justify the means.
There's a pivotal scene where McNeal faces an New York Times interviewer (Brittany Bellizeare) who begins to piece together the real origins of his acclaimed work. Downey's transformation in that moment is profound -- he shifts from smug self-assurance to a hollow defensiveness as the façade crumbles. What's left is a man undone by his own ambition, and Downey's portrayal is nothing short of captivating. The layers of McNeal's deception slowly peel away, and by the end, we're left with the empty shell of a man who has sold his soul for recognition.
The supporting cast also gives winning performances. As the writer's son Harlan, Rafi Gavron, brings an anger and traumatization by what gets revealed and we feel deeply for him. Andrea Martin plays Stephie, a stereotypical book agent, but she gets the point across. Ruthie Anne Miles as Dr. Sahra Grewal tries to stop his alcohol abuse and his slow way of killing himself. As his ex-lover Francine, Melora Hardin, brings a portrait of a woman he emotionally abused for years. Even Saisha Talwar makes the most of her role.
The set design by Michael Yeargan and Jake Barton, lighting design by Donald Holder and the digital effects by AGBO (and projections by Barton) are all well done and help get the story to infiltrate our souls.
The direction by Bartlett Sher, does have the play feeling a little confusing, but if you realize that like AI what is real and what is not is at stake here. It is then you will see this for the rollercoaster ride that McNeal is.
The question in the end becomes how much of Jacob McNeal is in all of us? As AI makes our lives easier, it is possible we could lose our souls.
McNeal: Lincoln Center's Vivian Beaumont Theater: 150 West 65th until November 24th.