Existentialism. Alcoholism. Borderline Personality Disorder. Toxic relationships. The constant weight of figuring out what to do with your life post-graduation.

“Genuine Cigarettes,” written and directed by Kelso Breitsprecher, attempted to tackle these heavy topics. The script reading happened this past Friday, Nov. 10, at UNI’s Interpreter’s Theatre.

The script serves as a one-act play, set in the period of one night at a local bar. Ian, the main character and a college drop-out, has just escaped the hospital after being admitted due to a suicide attempt. His ex-girlfriend Eva played an essential role in getting him help.

Ian is a character that lives with borderline personality disorder, a mental disorder characterized by emotional instability, impulse issues and unstable relationships, according to WebMD. Ian has just gotten out of a particularly toxic relationship with a girl named Emily, who I gleaned to be nearly as emotionally unavailable as Ian.

Ian’s only source of refuge exists in this bar, with his one-dimensional friend-who-is-a-girl-but-of-course-they-have-sexual-tension and bartender, Lauren. He is joined by an older divorcee, Joe, who has buckets of life wisdom to impart on young Ian.

Swearing and toxic masculinity are consistent undertones. Early on, Ian establishes that he is a “Real Man” because he doesn’t vape and instead smokes genuine cigarettes. He establishes his dominance at the bar by knocking out a fellow bar-goer that happens to be vaping at the bar. The sudden display of violence was jarring.

The particularly cyclical script continued to allow Ian to lament the fact that nobody cared about him until he tried to hang himself, while side characters showed consistent concern and care for Ian.

When Ian wasn’t calling an ex-girlfriend a psycho, telling someone to grow a pair or downing a PBR, he monologued about how his disorder is one that his friends need to accept, rather than try to fix for him. This message is perhaps the most fleshed out and supported by the text, as Ian asks fellow characters if they would stick around if he wasn’t taking his medication and talks about being sick, not crazy (although Emily and Eva, his ex-girlfriends, are, of course, psychos).

The rest of the plot feels like it was written around a philosophical agenda, with plot points being dropped in order to support the text, making the introduction of new characters like Eva feel confusing and sudden. Supporting characters exist in the context of Ian; they are not developed with their own personalities and lives.

Ian’s mental disorder is casually slipped into conversation instead of addressed. When it is brought up, Ian uses it as a scapegoat for bad behavior instead of taking responsibility for his role in harming his relationships. The message is clear: Ian is a grieving soul, and everyone around him should contort themselves to help him, even if he refuses their assistance or cusses them out.

This is not to say existentialism and generally depressing topics cannot be done tactfully or poetically. Annie Baker’s “The Aliens” addresses similar topics that “Genuine Cigarettes” touches on, but in a manner with more flow, finesse and personality. The topics the writing attempts to overcome are timely and important, but they are discussed at an elementary level, making the script feel underdeveloped and disappointing at its close.

Audience members’ only relief to the drone of anger and narcissism of Ian’s character came in the form of quirky one-liners employed by Joe or cool-girl remarks by Lauren. Consequently, Lauren and Joe become untouched and underdeveloped characters, their only purpose being the teeter-totter to Ian’s instability.

Ian’s bellyaching is brought to a head when Joe attempts to tackle his suicidality with a platitude: “What’s there to be sad about? Life is a shit show already, you do you” and “We’re all human.” Ian appears to be receptive to this, as he goes outside to think it over with a cigarette.

In the time it takes him to smoke a cigarette, Ian is enlightened. He re-enters the bar to make a brief blanket apology for hurting the people around him, admit that he causes the problems he has and says he is not going to let borderline personality disorder control him.

Shortly thereafter, cops appear for Ian, and he goes willingly, saying he is going to take the steps to work at getting better. The script ends with Lauren and Joe taking a shot, “To Ian!”