Frank, mature subject matter draws enthusiastic crowds to Theater Club production
By MICHAEL SMITH World Entertainment Writer 01/16/01
Susan Little (left) and Jessica Chesbro rehearse for the Theater Club production of "The Vagina Monologues." ROBERT S. CROSS / Tulsa World
First came more folding chairs. Then came chairs of varying styles, from behind the stage, obviously set pieces from other shows the Nightingale Theater has hosted. A bench was next. A large couch was pushed toward the back for some patrons to sink into.
Theater Club, with a little more than 50 stadium-seating spaces available, had now sold 103 tickets for the Saturday night performance of Eve Ensler's "The Vagina Monologues." I fully expected to next see stage hands turn mop buckets upside down and offer them to guests who would willingly squat and smile in preparation for the event.
This scene was indicative of the response the play has received since its local performances were announced two months ago. Nine performances were scheduled, and all sold out in advance -- but every effort is being made to find a seat for everyone who shows up and is willing to wait.
"The Vagina Monologues" is 90 minutes of women on stage, sometimes alone, sometimes in groups, recounting directly to the audience the experiences of the more than 200 women Ensler interviewed and used as the basis for this show about women's most private of private parts. Or "down there." Or any of the other names that women interviewed said were the names they used rather than vagina. The responses were equally varied and humorous as they answered philosophical questions such as "If your vagina could talk, what would it say?" or "What would it wear?"
It was a night of frank talk, to say the least -- for mature audiences only.
The show's reputation as a taboo-breaking night of liberation preceded itself well. On Saturday, director Susan Webb and her cast of nine remarkable women delivered on that intent, seemingly performing with a kind of freedom and exuberanace that gave one the impression they were thrilled to have the interview subjects' words spilling out of them, providing a night of entertainment that was at times hilarious, poignant, disturbing, uncomfortable, poetic and beautiful.
The cast is, in alphabetical order: Jessica Chesbro, Mary Forester, Lauri Lenora, Susan Little, Liz Masters, Laurie Phariss, Paulette ReCord, Annette Rosenheck and Emily Thompson. They were uniformly excellent. Yes, there were standouts among them, but it seems appropriate to recognize this team effort -- a sisterhood, if you will -- in this fashion.
What's important here is what these women have to say, and the set and costuming is designed to keep this focus. It's a black-box theater, with some black benches, walls and drapes. The women? All are dressed in black.
Not that the audience would be anything but attentive during "The Flood," as Little portrays a senior citizen recounting to Ensler an embarrassing moment from her youth, with a boy in the front seat of a car. She would never be with a boy again, instead finding joy in her life through "dog shows and antiques."
"You want to know what my vagina would wear? It would wear a sign that says 'Closed due to flooding,'" she tells us, painfully.
The show forces the whole range of emotions to spread over many people. It's almost impossible not to wince as Thompson tells of the horrors her character, a young Bosnian victim of mass rape, has survived. Anyone who's been there understands the absolute awe on the face of Rosenheck's character in "I Was There in the Room," a woman in the delivery room watching as her grandchild's head, then shoulders and everything else come sloshing into a doctor's arms. You must smile as the wonderful Lenora gives Meg Ryan a run for her money in the moaning department. You have to laugh as Masters stalks the stage in "My Angry Vagina," running down the list of negatives when it comes to tampons, thong underwear and pelvic exams ("What's with the flashlight up there, like it's Nancy Drew? What's with the Nazi stirrups?").
The audience -- about 75 percent women -- responded to this performance with clapping, whooping and everything short of "You go girl!"
The most uncomfortable moment, which ReCord handles with aplomb, comes during a woman's tale of being deflowered at age 13 by a 24-year-old woman. Without question, this would be criminal molestation in our state if the event became public. But in an intimate setting like an interview with Ensler, the woman spoke of the event as if it were one of the most healthy experiences of her life.
Bottom line: This monologue and all of the others felt, more than anything else, real. And that was the point: real talk about a subject women rarely discuss, but on which they clearly have plenty to say.
The success of this show and Heller Theater's concurrent sold-out run of performances of the Steve Martin farce, "Picasso at the Lapin Agile," should certainly make a statement about what kind of modern stage works -- and adventurous programming -- that Tulsans will line up at the theater for, if it's offered.
The two shows made for an exciting weekend of community theater. Here comes another one, and here's to those fortunate enough to find a seat at either of these fine productions.
"The Vagina Monologues" continues its run with 8 p.m. performances Thursday-Saturday and Jan. 25-27. All shows are at the Nightingale Theater, 1416 E. Fourth Street (one block east of Peoria Avenue). Theater Club can be contacted by calling 857-9154.
Michael Smith, World entertainment writer, can be reached at 581-8474 or via e-mail at michael.smith@tulsaworld.com.