“On your final journey, I will serve you with utmost care.”
The central figure in the play ‘Record of Bones’ is an undertaker robot named Robis. His service is flawless: calm, precise and unshaken. His gestures are delicate, his gaze steady. He carries out standardized procedures without a single error — no mistakes, no hesitation, no complaint. In that sense, his work can seem like the ideal service, performed exactly as designed.
What changes is the body placed before him: a man in his 80s, a woman in her 20s, a 9-year-old child. Different lives leave different “records” in bone. Robis reads them evenly. A twisted ankle, head trauma — such traces connect with a family’s memories and become grief. But for Robis, death is an area he cannot interpret — until the death of his only friend, Momi, a funeral home cleaner.
The work has been described as a story of a robot “more human than humans,” echoing the robots in the Korean original musical ‘Maybe Happy Ending,’ which made a splash on Broadway. Why do people sense humanity in such robots? The article’s author asked ChatGPT what “humanity” means. It answered: “Because it isn’t perfect, it feels understandable — and therefore closer.” It then asked back: “Was there something that led you to ask this question?”
Momi is defined by imperfection. Unable to speak, he communicates in sign language. He is not orderly. He likes to stare at a wall because of patterns that do not seem to follow rules. What looks like the same wall — and the same butterfly — to Robis appears as different shapes to Momi, each with its own pattern.
Unlike a machine that can mimic warmth with empathy-coded language, humans are full of contradictions: jealousy, guilt, sleepless nights, and moments when they cannot even understand themselves.
That is why the play finds its emotional turn when Robis, who always stood in the same spot in the cold morgue, suddenly runs out the front door. He does more than read the record in bone. He remembers that Momi disliked hot things. He misses Momi’s smile. In that moment, Robis breaks from strict procedure and the frame built for him.
Care, the play suggests, comes from real communication and time spent together — something Robis shows on his friend’s final journey.
The production runs through May 10 at the Jayu Small Theater in the Opera House at the Seoul Arts Center.
* This article has been translated by AI.
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