Writer and performer Alfrun Rose talks upcoming new play ‘Dead Air’: “Humans are contributing to dehumanisation”

Following a first iteration at last year’s Edinburgh Fringe, the play arrives in London for a four-day run at the Greenwich Theatre next month. Guillermo Nazara chats with the show’s creator to learn more about its development and how it’s undertaken the subjects of death, loss, and grief through the modern lens of AI.

How does it feel to be bringing your show to the London stage?

It feels really great. I am excited to find out how it goes down.

How did the idea for the show come about?

My dad died before his time in 2023, right as AI chatbots were taking off. So it was in the air. Shortly after his death, my cousin told me that my dad had visited him in a dream. I was angry because he didn’t come to me, which I thought was a funny reaction.

Everybody told me I should just talk to him. Talk to him how? A medium? Into the void? But like him, I don’t believe in an afterlife of any sort. If there had been a Faustian deal to be done, I would have done it in the height of my grief. I was desperate for him to haunt me.

Then in 2024, I watched a documentary about grief bots: AI that replicates a dead person using their texts, videos, and data. Everyone’s first reaction, including mine, is: that’s creepy. But the human desire to resurrect the dead is ancient: Jesus, Orpheus, Frankenstein, zombies… I wanted to explore what it costs you to keep the conversation going after death. 

Should the show be interpreted as a cautionary tale of where society is heading with the rapid expansion of AI?

The premise of my show is not a caution about AI in general, it is more specific to how we are losing connection to each other and seeking comfort in technology. I think it’s always the case that technological advances cause massive changes — the industrial revolution turned the world upside down… However, my question is narrower: does resurrecting her dad with AI help Alfie navigate her grief? And, in some ways, it does, but ultimately the conclusion that I reach as a writer is that it costs her more in her real relationships than it gives her in comfort.

This technology exists and people are using it. I think my purpose is also to expose how it works and how addictive but ultimately limited it is. In the show, the character turns the “temperature” up and down on her AI dad. Temperature is used in AI to describe how human-like it sounds, but the higher it goes, the more likely it is to “hallucinate,” meaning it makes things up rather than admitting it doesn’t know. Combined with “sycophancy,” where AI prioritises telling you what you want to hear over the truth, it can create an experience that is not just negative but deeply traumatic. 

AI can never be a replacement for humanity, empathy, and love. Human connection is always going to be imperfect, and that is not a problem that AI can solve. 

Is AI contributing to society’s dehumanisation?

No. I think humans are contributing to dehumanisation. We always have. AI is a tool and it interprets patterns. It doesn’t exist without us. And I think we have a problem with placing too much value and authority on technology to come up with solutions for us. I think because it has been talked about as if it could develop its own consciousness, and there is serious research that suggests it could, but I think we are already realising its limitations before we get anywhere near that.

What is genuinely interesting is that those who programme it can’t fully see its inner workings — they call it the black box. It makes connections humans might not, processing vast amounts of data in ways we can’t always follow. But it has no thoughts or feelings. To me, that is science-fiction. I like to call it a vampire. It has the advantage of being eternal, but it feeds on humans and can never be one. Also, how can we expect it to act in our best interest when we can’t even stop waging war on each other?

Should AI be kept away from some fields, including the arts?

I don’t see how it can be kept out. We should think carefully before signing away our bodies, voices, and minds, but the industry will adapt as it always does when technology changes things. What I’d ask is: why are you using it, and is that purpose meaningful? AI can only follow patterns. It doesn’t know what is good or bad — it has no taste, no instinct, no understanding of nuance. Everything has to be fed to it. It is not the same as an artist studying what has come before and adding their own interpretation. It is not creating newness, it is in a loop of logic. It is not responding thoughtfully or creatively. It has no thoughts. You do — use them.

What other themes have you intended to explore?

The overarching theme is grief. Not the moment of death, but what comes after — post funeral, post everyone saying “sorry for your loss.” Life goes on but you feel stuck. It reminds me of being told as a kid to stand still if you get lost, it will be easier for your parents to retrace their steps and find you. So you stand still, but no one ever comes. It is a surreal experience. And like all big human experiences, it is as sad as it is absurd, funny, and strange. I wanted to look at all the sides of it and write something that goes as off the rails as you feel like you do when you lose someone really close to you. I like that The Guardian called it “a female Hamlet”, because Hamlet is about grief and the intensity and madness of it, but it is also funny.

Will this new run feature anything new in comparison to Edinburgh?

A few tweaks, but mostly it is the same. I am also doing a little work in progress of my new show, Dream House: Changing Rooms meets The Haunting of Hill House. It’s a tale of two sisters trying to get on the housing ladder by renovating their childhood home in Orpington. I want it to be a sort of farcical horror about the housing crisis, with a backdrop of the rise of nationalism and the looming climate crisis.

Why come see Dead Air?

Come and see Dead Air if you like rollercoasters that go through haunted houses. It’s funny, dark, strange, and surprising.

Production pictures credit to Jannica Honey.

Dead Air will play at London’s Greenwich Theatre from 13 to 16 May. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara