John, a play by Annie Baker, is set in the front room of an oppressively chintzy B&B in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. It’s run by Mertis, a jolly, slightly savant-like old dear with something of the ‘Twin Peaks’ Log Lady to her. She has stuffed the joint with artificial life: most visibly, dolls, but there’s talk of a husband called George who may be an invention, and beyond that there are hints of other, stranger beings.
