Imagine walking into a theater, eagerly anticipating a captivating play, only to find yourself in the midst of a glorified celebrity showcase. That’s the essence of This World of Tomorrow, starring Tom Hanks at The Shed. While it’s not exactly a play in the traditional sense, it’s certainly play-shaped—complete with actors in costumes, memorized lines, and a stage. But here’s where it gets controversial: this production feels less like a cohesive theatrical experience and more like a whimsical doodle on a napkin, or perhaps a college drama club project designed to celebrate its star. And this is the part most people miss—despite the talent surrounding Hanks and the eager audience, the entire endeavor revolves around admiring him. At least the hats are fun.
Let’s be clear: This World of Tomorrow isn’t malicious. Tom Hanks, Hollywood’s moral nice-guy, is as close as we get to a modern Jimmy Stewart, and his foray into writing seems rooted in a genuine love for good-hearted Americana. (Naturally, there’s a character who waxes poetic about a typewriter.) But the question remains: should a theater company invest its resources in staging his work? The answer, quite frankly, is no. Based on Hanks’s short story The Past Is Important to Us, the play follows Bert Allenberry, a wealthy tech mogul from the year 2100 who repeatedly travels back to the 1939 New York World’s Fair. His supposed fascination with the past’s vision of the future is really just a cover for his infatuation with Carmen Perry (Kelli O’Hara), a divorcée he keeps encountering in a time loop. It’s a blend of Groundhog Day, Midnight in Paris, and the ethically questionable Passengers—films not exactly known for their sensitivity to women’s agency.
You’d think this setup would spark some dramatic tension, perhaps a commentary on nostalgia or entitlement. But This World of Tomorrow doesn’t go there. Instead, it avoids conflict, barely addressing the darker aspects of the 1930s beyond a few token lines. The Shed’s artistic director, Alex Poots, claims the play references ‘the rise in authoritarianism,’ which translates to a throwaway line about killing Hitler. The script feels aimless, and director Kenny Leon—known for celebrity-driven dramas—doesn’t seem to steer the cast toward any clear theme. Even the set, despite a likely hefty budget, feels cheap, with Derek McLane’s cybernetic design failing to capture the wonder of the World’s Fair.
Where the play could inspire awe, it instead drowns in technobabble and over-explanation. Scenes with Hanks’s future colleagues feel like Star Trek fan fiction, complete with nonsensical time-travel jargon. The most engaging moments come in the second act, when Bert and Carmen meet in a 1950s Greek diner run by Jay O. Sanders, whose gruff charm almost makes you forget the rest of the play’s shortcomings. Why this scene exists is anyone’s guess—perhaps a nod to Hanks’s wife, Rita Wilson—but it’s at least an interesting detour.
Yet, let’s be honest: audiences aren’t here for detours. They’re here for Tom Hanks, and his movie-star charisma doesn’t disappoint. He’s like a beloved family dog, padding up to lay his charm on your lap. When he delivers jokes about discovering real milk at the World’s Fair, the audience sighs in relief—this is the celebrity performance they paid for. But is that enough? When stage actors like Kristin Chenoweth or Laurie Metcalf bring their familiar forms to the theater, we celebrate their craft. But asking a movie star to truly perform in a play feels like an unnecessary hurdle. Why not cut to the chase? Ditch the script, the director, the ensemble—let Hanks stand center stage in golden silence for two hours. Call it a pilgrimage, a sacramental act of admiration. After all, he’s not performing—you are.
This World of Tomorrow runs at The Shed through December 21. But here’s the real question: Is this a play, or just a love letter to Tom Hanks? Let us know what you think in the comments—do you see this as a missed opportunity, or a harmless celebration of a Hollywood icon?
