Who says Silicon Valley techies don’t have a conscience? Matthew Libby’s unbelievably timely drama Data centers on computer scientists at a firm called Athena trying to develop a top-secret AI program for Homeland Security to determine which visa applicants might be threats to the national interest. Our hero, Maneesh (Karan Brar, Diary of a Wimpy Kid), is a first-generation Indian American fresh out of a college where he coded a predictive AI algorithm that won him top honors but whose ethical implications so worried him that he shut down as a closed-source program.
But parental pressure to succeed and not-so-latent personal ambition drive him to take a job at the mighty Athena — where he first toils in the low-profile User Experience division under the mentorship of a barely qualified tech bro named Jonah (13 Reasons Why alum Brandon Flynn, perfectly evoking frat-boy entitlement and vulnerability). One sign of how much Maneesh is underutilizing his talents is the amount of time he spends playing ping pong with Jonah in the company break room. (The versatile minimalist set, looking like a white shoebox, is designed by Marsha Ginsberg and lit by Amith Chandrashaker.)
Then Maneesh’s former college classmate Riley (Sophia Lillis, It and It: Chapter Two) recommends him for the top-secret data analytics team where all that hush-hush, NDA-protected government work is being done. Soon the influential data team manager, Alex (Justin H. Min, The Umbrella Academy), is recruiting Maneesh — and not so subtly suggesting that his dormant algo might be just the ticket for Athena to win that government contract and cut through years of bureaucratic red tape. The fact that Homeland Security might use Athena’s program for more nefarious purposes — to deport people like Maneesh’s parents or even the Singapore-born Alex himself — doesn’t seem to bother Alex but weighs heavily on Maneesh. And why wouldn’t the government extend the same principles to other anti-democratic policy ideas outside the scope of immigration?
It’s remarkable how much Data appears to be ripped from the headlines even though it premiered in 2024 and was conceived even earlier. Libby cunningly introduces his characters and their personal histories while exploring the bigger issues that underpin his story, and director Tyne Rafaeli smartly paces the scenes so that we seldom question why these focused techies would spend so much time socializing and engaging in philosophical questions as if they were back in their freshman-year college dorms. Still, he imagines to build genuine suspense — and deliver several surprising twists — without resorting to clichés or trickery.
Min strikes a crafty balance between persuasive and manipulative, imbuing his character’s lines with an undeniable menace without varying either the tone or volume of his voice. His Alex only seems to get rattled in side conversations with his own bosses who are frustrated with his team’s lack of progress. He’s a perfect avatar for a certain type of intellectual genius who’s convinced themselves that their actions, and the product they produce, can’t possibly be wrong because their intentions are if not pure than at least amoral.
Maneesh and Riley are more burdened with doubt — and flummoxed about how to push back without any repercussions to their careers or reputations. We learn much about their individual backstories, the financial security and reputational perks that come with landing a gig at Athena — and the heavy toll it would take on them if they, say, tried to defy their NDAs and blow the whistle on the company’s plans. Brar and Lillis capture the complexity of their characters’ plight, and how easily mutual respect can shift into suspicion and doubt.
In the end, though, each of the show’s four characters reverts to type — or perhaps to the truest versions of themselves — yielding a conclusion that is abrupt but very nearly satisfying. Data can be seen as both a cautionary tale about the horrific future use of AI in our society — but also as a hopeful evocation of the human capacity to resist, no matter the cost or the futility of the outcome. ★★★★☆
DATA
Lucille Lortel Theatre, Off Broadway
Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes (no intermission)
Tickets on sale through March 29 for $49 to $191
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