Circle Jerk sets the modern standard for satire.

The Pulitzer Prize finalist Circle Jerk ended its off-Broadway run at the Connelley Theatre this past weekend, but we are certain that the future is bright for this envelope-pushing theatrical work of innovation.

The show was created by playwright Jeremy O. Harris and a group named Fake Friends. This team includes Michael Breslin, Patrick Foley, Cat Rodriguez, Ariel Siebert, and Rory Pelsue. The first three were performers in the show, while the latter two served as Dramaturg and Director respectively.

This ingenious group of talented individuals created a satirical and modern exploration of cancel culture, social media, and the LGBTQ+ community so profoundly chaotic and simultaneously pointedly meaningful that it will rattle around in your brain for days on end.

If someone turned to me and said, "Describe Circle Jerk in one sentence," I would first laugh in their *LITERAL* face, because that is a nearly impossible task. We would have to clear an entire week to fully dissect the brilliant nuance of this exciting work.

Yet, if the person persisted, I would summarize it as such:

Circle Jerk is Reefer Madness for the, "Gay Agenda," with more to say.

On the show's website, Circle Jerk is described as such:

"It's winter on Gayman Island, a summer retreat for the homosexual rich and fame-ish. This off-season, two White Gay internet trolls hatch a plot to take back what's wrongfully theirs. Cancellations, meme schemes, and political and erotical flip flops abound as three actors playing nine parts play out this chaotic live-streamed descent into the high-energy, quick-change, low-brow shitpit of the internet."

Much in the way the iconic cult classic Reefer Madness pokes fun at the high-strung, high-stress, anti-weed videos of the 1980s (videos that promised smoking weed was the surest way to end up dead, derranged, or, heaven forbid, a woman who is comfortable with her sexuality), Circle Jerk takes the the ridiculous concept of the "Gay Agenda" and poses the question, "What if the, 'Gay Agenda,' were in fact the maniacal plot that many seem to believe it to be?" What ensues is abject hilarity.

Unlike Reefer Madness, however, the show is more than just a one-hit jab at a high-strung world. In fact, one character even says:

"Do you think this is a comedy, Patrick? Because it's really not."

Through the intelligent use of social media and musical theatre, the show points out how far we as humanity have strayed from genuine connection and lost sight of the actual objective of progress within the throes of easily digestable performative activism.

The entire show is live-streamed in order to allow a world-wide audience to engage with it. Yet, a live audience member will note, due to the brilliant work of the company, the in-person and at-home audiences are actually seeing two drastically different shows.

The at-home audience is only able to see what is on the screen. Even live, the screen projects well-edited cuts and trasitions. When the third act of the show arrives - an act told entirely through TikToks and trends, the at home audience is seeing only the TikToks.

Meanwhile, the in-person audience saw everything. We saw every set up, every motion, every technical element that went behind each of the character's making their own TikToks. Even though we were in the room, the preference everyone showed to their screens screamed volumes.

We share our stories through social media, masking through TikTok trends, but no one is really seeing the pain and the chaos that's going on in real life.

It is the kind of show that makes you question everything that you know to be true, and will leave you thinking, reeling, discovering for days.

On top of the non-negotiable brilliance of the piece, the actors do an exemplary job. With only three of them, they take on seven different characters. The performances of each are so full that, when all three actors were on the stage, I found myself wondering where everyone else was.

Circle Jerk has all of the makings of a new cult classic. It is brilliant and dazzlingly brave in a way that most theater today is shying away from. My only question about the future of the show lies within a compliment to its ingenuity.

Circle Jerk is so masterfully topical, opperating like a trend-following element of social media itself, with a constant demand to be updated due to the ceasless, ever changing cycle of trends: where will we see this show next, and how different will it be? We are certain it will be back, and we cannot wait to see the form that it takes.

This show is not pandering. It is not preachy. It does not speak down to its audience. Instead, Circle Jerk demands that the audience be present, use their minds, and think critically. They do it all through the brilliance of well-constructed theatrical chaos. Well done Circle Jerk. We can't wait to see what the future of this brilliant show has in store.