Eliza at Melbourne Theatre Company: When AI Starts to Feel Human

The production design is also worth mentioning.

Dale Ferguson’s set is relatively stripped back, creating the inside of an MIT office with a desk, computers, glass walls and a clock that constantly reminds you that time is passing. Behind it, however, are rows upon rows of boxes.

At first they appear to be nothing more than university files and paperwork, but their uniform arrangement also brings to mind the concrete blocks of the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe in Berlin.

That connection feels particularly significant given Weizenbaum’s childhood and his family’s escape from Nazi Germany. The repetition of the boxes creates a feeling of confinement, while their sheer number makes the office feel like it sits within something much larger and more unsettling.

I also liked the way the boxes take on a completely different purpose later in the production. Through projections, they become a surface for images and reflections, at one point creating the impression of an audience sitting and watching a performance.

The lighting by Paul Jackson is equally important in shaping the mood. It changes subtly as we move further into Weizenbaum’s memories and state of mind, particularly during his encounters with ELIZA and the more unsettling moments of the play.

There is one particularly moment when lights move through the theatre before black birds fall from above. It’s unexpected and unsettling, creating the feeling that something beneath the surface is beginning to come apart.

Kelly Ryall’s sound design adds to this increasingly unsettling atmosphere, helping shift the production from the world of a university office into something much more psychological as we move deeper into Weizenbaum’s memories and mind.