Dom Martello, Sam Im, Anita Parrott, and Ellenor Riley-Condit Photo by Travis Emery Hackett

There are plenty of coming-of-age stories in the theatre, but Daphne Silbiger's thoughtful and discussion-worthy Very Blue Light, now on stage at The Tank, feels a bit like a "we've come of age and now we're not quite sure what to do about it" story.

The above observation is expressed by Angela (Ellenor Riley-Condit), who is prepping to depart her home in the artist community of Marfa, Texas for a new job as a social media manager for a bird conservancy in Juneau, Alaska. But first she arranges a reunion with her high school friend/crush Coleman (Sam Im) to consider if she may prefer moving to Austin and enjoying the perk-laden comforts of his corporate development home provided by his employer, Tesla.

When Coleman is asked, "How do you feel about making America great again?," he is insistent about not being MAGA ("Bunch of fucking cucks.") and admits that when it comes to politics, "I feel like my algorithm's pretty wack about this stuff."

That question is posed by Angela's best friend, Magna (Dom Martello), an avant-garde artist whom Coleman remembers as his best guy friend and is now seeing her for the first time since her transition.

Eventually joining the mix is Magna's friend/crush Michigan (Anita Parrott), whom Coleman presumptuously refer to as "her" before Angela corrects him with "they." When not building cyberdecks, possibly for hacking purposes, Michigan works at a brunch spot frequented by curiosity-seekers who come to town to see The Marfa Mystery Lights, "The world-famous glowing alien dots that maybe appear in the desert if you sit by the side of the highway long enough."

"I do mess with tourists. It's just so easy," explains Michigan, recalling, "The guy who tipped me a twenty when he thought he used a racial slur."

After the introductory pleasantries are exchanged, the play kicks into gear with a dizzying volley of discussion topics, primarily centered on Coleman's involvement in intrusive high tech and whether or nor social issues do more than distract from the inevitable. Magna calls Coleman's view that the power structure of today's world has made voting irrelevant "apocalyptic thinking" and suggests, "Quit getting your opinions from vertical videos."

Silbiger's textured writing and Emily Moler's character-driven direction keep the proceedings from turning into flat liberal verses conservative discourse, and the play becomes less about the specific topics they discuss and more about Coleman fighting his discomfort at seeing Magna as a woman, Magna's weariness of constantly being on the defensive against bigotry, and Angela sizing up if she's really ready to settle into a world like Coleman's, while Michigan, certainly the most self-assured of the quartet, observes them all with detached amusement.

The play's heart beats fully in a pair of scenes in which first Angela and Coleman and then Magna and Michigan are left alone together to consider their futures.

At its best, Very Blue Light explores how generations may be losing a sense of nuance, interpretation, and the consideration of other people's upbringings and experiences through everyday devices that feed us the most rigid standards for the opinions someone of our political and social leanings should believe. The truth may be more flexible than we think it is, and perhaps the only way to find out is to talk with someone who isn't going to keep assuring us that we're right.