‘The Adding Machine’ review: Elmer Rice’s play gets a sluggish revival

It’s a good time for Elmer Rice’s “The Adding Machine,” which can only mean that it’s once again a bad time for workers.

I couldn’t recall when I last saw the 1923 expressionist drama about an accountant drone aptly named Mr. Zero who, after losing his job to an adding machine, kills his boss and is sentenced to death, only to enter an afterworld that confounds him to such a degree that he retreats into his stultifying office routine.

It turns out I saw the play twice in 2007, once at La Jolla Playhouse in an adventurous distillation directed by Daniel Aukin and once in Los Angeles in a more straightforward rendering at Circus Theatrical Studio Theatre at the Hayworth.

These productions took place just as the Great Recession was about to mow down the lives and livelihoods of dedicated workers, many of whom lost more than their homes as banks were bailed out despite their predatory shenanigans.

I’m sadly reminded of colleagues who never recovered, a sobering thought as we stare down the barrel of yet another employment crisis. AI is coming for all of us.

Automation isn’t a new thing, as Rice’s drama reminds us. Workers continually have to adapt to changing technology. But the scale of disruption today is predicted to be greater than anything that’s happened since the industrial revolution. And only the gullible could believe that good-hearted oligarchs will save us.

From a scenic perspective, the new production of “The Adding Machine” from the Actors’ Gang at the Ivy Substation in Culver City renews the demi-classic with stark beauty. The revival, directed by Cihan Sahin, who is also credited with the production and projection design, carves out pockets of visual poetry on the darkened stage.

Under Sahin’s coordination and artistry, the mise-en-scène harmonizes Chris Bell’s sets, Bosco Flanagan’s lighting, Patrick O’Connor’s projection illustrations and Rynn Vogel’s costumes with David Robbins’ sound and music design. There’s so much vying for your attention, including a Sisyphus figure in the background rolling his interminable burden up and down an incline, that the maskwork that comes into play can begin to feel like Brechtian overkill.

Megan Stogner, from left, Brent Hinkley, Mariana Jaccazio, and Chad Reinhart in “The Adding Machine.”

(Bob Turton Photography)

The production works best when the play’s expressionistic flourishes invite theatergoers to consider more deeply the subjective experiences and societal subtexts that are being externalized. At times, the company’s frenzied acting becomes theatrically alienating.

We’re supposed to find the opening monologue flung by Mrs. Zero (Zoe Molina) at her long-suffering and insufferable husband, Mr. Zero (Pierre Adeli), off-putting. But Molina’s all-out attack may have you plotting your escape from the theater.

Yes, she’s a termagant, harridan and shrew — words we were meant to have expunged from our vocabulary long ago. Rice, no protofeminist, was an equal opportunity misanthrope in “The Adding Machine.” But the playwright who also wrote “Street Scene” didn’t want the bold effects of his drama to eclipse the human story.

The bigger issue with the production, however, is one of rhythm. The pacing is off, especially in the drawn-out second half. Sahin’s eye is so attuned to the mise-en-scène that he allows the actors to proceed at their own tempo.

Zoe Molina, left, and Pierre Adeli play Mrs. and Mr. Zero, respectively.

(Bob Turton Photography)

The result is not just sluggish but overindulgent. Fortunately, Adeli’s Mr. Zero establishes the necessary center of gravity. His scenes with Mariana Jaccazio’s Daisy, his co-worker with whom he has a lust-hate relationship, are especially riveting, oozing those contradictory feelings that Rice bravely refused to homogenize.

Mr. Zero is not just a victim. He’s also a passive aggressive creep who transforms into a murderer. He’s corrupted from the inside by a system that has no regard for his humanity. Like Willy Loman, he’s enraged that his boss feels like he can eat the orange and then just throw away the peel — with impunity.

But Mr. Zero has bought into the game every bit as vociferously as Willy. The values he’s adopted are toxic in their divisiveness. He’s a MAGA bully with a slave mentality. Lechery brings him distraction but little joy. In death as in life, the only relief he can find is in the bookkeeping drudgery that has become not just his identity but his very soul.

“The Adding Machine” is often abridged to satisfy contemporary tastes. The play shouldn’t be grueling for audiences. But this visually striking revival from the Actors’ Gang makes clear that Rice still has our number.