Based on the short story by George Saunders, "Jon" is part-satire and part-horror, like a Grimm's fairytale set in Orwell's "1984." Jon's world is a kind of consumer concentration camp in which he and his teenage cohort review products, enjoy scripted memories of fake loved ones, and receive daily doses of Aurabon, a happy drug that makes them lose all cares and longings. Trendsetter Jon (Lucas Neff) wears three popped collars, sports a Pete Wentz hairstyle and has a beautiful, pregnant wife. His shelves are lined with designer clothes, free food and all the PlayStation games he could ever want. It's only after a terrible incident that Jon's wife Carolyn (Kelly O'Sullivan) starts to question whether the consumer factory farm they live in is as "super awesome" as they thought.
Echoing a surreal glimpse at mental corporate take-over, "Jon" is a Romeo and Juliet meets American Apparel ad that's both stunning in its presentation and apocalyptic malaise. The language of the play is shaped by advertisements, as those are the only experiences the characters can draw from, never having been outside the facility. While painfully clumsy at times, it is the awkwardness that makes it endearing. How could one resist romantic prose such as "Would you please unzipper your privacy opening?" After all, it's the love story that grounds the play, offering bursts of hope in an otherwise bleak future.
Kudos to the artistic design team for perfectly setting the stage of Jon as a multi-media onslaught—as captivating as it is nightmarish—and to the strong cast, whose quirks and ticks immaculately illustrate what the personification of a mental corporate takeover would look like. But for all its grim themes, "Jon" is also remarkably funny. Much of the humor lies in the ad libbing (pun intended) and the fumbling revelations it produces. "If you love me, say…yahoo!" This is a dystopian party you don't want to miss.