There’s nothing funny about rape.  I mean … is there?  No.  Of course not.  It’s brutal, vicious  and terrifying, a crime that makes no sense, can be difficult to prove, and  - even in today’s society – leaves the victim stigmatized.  In fact, most victims are embarrassed to report their rape, let alone discuss it – even with (or, sadder still, especially with) close friends and family members.

Guaranteed - several of your friends have been sexually assaulted in some manner and you have no idea.  You may think you know everything about someone, but their rape is often a dark fact they’ve pushed down and hushed up which becomes their own dirty little secret rather than their unfortunate violation.  The rape will go with them to the grave.  Why?  Because it’s just easier that way.  Huh.

So, while there is nothing funny about rape, what CAN be satirized, parodied, explored and lampooned is the society in which there exists a crime where blaming and shaming the victim is routine.  A country where doubting the victim’s story and policing the victimized population by dictating what they should wear, how much they should drink, and how they should act is considered the norm. Start to understand the inherent foolishness and stupidity of this and frankly you’re looking at a play where the jokes just start writing themselves.   Then see that the play is written by Mariah MacCarthy and … well … suddenly a dark comedy about rape seems like it’s a play whose time has come.

Lysistrata Rape Play:  the title alone should be evidence enough that subtlety is not going to be the direction in which this play is going.  MacCarthy tends to do this pretty consistently: title her plays exquisitely boldly with definitions of what you will get upon arrival (see Genderfuck Cabaret , Foreplay Play or  Ampersand: A Romeo & Juliet Story).  It’s reminiscent of  that tried and true Chinese takeout you’ve relied on for years to get you through weekends and hangovers.  The menu says Chicken and Broccoli and what arrives at your door is Chicken and Broccoli.  The other thing MacCarthy tends to do pretty consistently: like that little Chinese gem around the corner, the secret to her success is the way she piles her story-lines high, not afraid to over-stuff the plot in an effort to get the point across.   And, like takeout … she’ll always deliver.

So, let me break it down for you.  Lysistrata Rape Play does, indeed, echo the classic Greek Lysistrata by Aristophanes in which women – in an effort to force their men to broker a peace – withhold sex from them.  In Rape Play, however in the wake of a particularly headline-grabbing rape that is being held out as a beacon cry for change, women are being urged to withhold sex from their men until all rape stops.  Sounds crazy, no?   It’s a situation that, even before you begin to wrap your mind around it, you can already find yourself poking holes through.  ”But what if ….?”  ”And what about the …?”  ”And does that mean all …?”  ”But wouldn’t that only mean  …?”  But of course  Lysistrata Rape Play  isn’t set up to present only one side – that would be the shortcut.  And if MacCarthy was fond of shortcuts she’d be the type of writer who wrote very different plays.  Ones that weren’t about gender identity,  group sex and now … rape. 

Rape is discussed, defined, debated, depicted, reenacted, committed, avenged, and ultimately … or so a perfect world would have you believe … eradicated.

In the not-too-distant future of MacCarthy’s Lysistrata Rape Play the US is run by a strong, willful woman who is both broad minded as well as tunnel visioned. She is, as some would describe her – both to her face as well as behind her back – vulgar … a description she seems to both toss aside as well as relish. It bemuses her for its very indication that she is a woman in a man’s world who is taking on a fiercely sexual issue and bringing her politics into America’s bedrooms.

She sets down a ban on sex and, while making it clear that it is more of a “voluntary” opt-in rather than a law, ad hoc patrols are set up throughout society to enforce the new “suggestion” leading woman to turn against woman should any be found breaking rank. This keeps the Matriarch’s hands clean while ensuring that, in essence, America has now become a police state.  America is now a nation where loving couples are terrified of expressing their devotion to each other for fear of punishment, imprisonment or even mutilation.  Even allies are considered enemies.  And the darkest enemies are lurking in the kindest hearts.

MacCarthy intentionally throws the net wide –  catching every possible thought, motive, issue, fallout, ripple, consequence – both intended as well as unforeseen  by her characters – in order to illuminate not only every issue, but every side of every issue.   During the course of Lysistrata Rape Play these textured, endearing and tremendously earnest characters allow us to walk a mile in their sexless-therefore-sexually-frustrated shoes.   How would it affect marriages?  Friendships?  Sexuality?  The sex workers?  The chain of power?  How would it corrupt?  How would it implode?  How would it change society’s structure?  How would people cope?  Who would stay and fight?  Who would run and hide?  Who would do things they never expected to do?  For better?  For worse?  Much, much worse?

Lysistrata Rape Play takes the topic and gives a series of “if / then” scenarios where each hero is all the more enticing because they are flawed, each “villain” actually makes sense, and there are degrees of good and evil that often meet in the middle.   MacCarthy’s gift is being able to write characters who are often at odds with themselves and who betray not only themselves but their best friends, their loved ones … and those they have no idea they are affecting.  Yet throughout, they clearly express their own confusion at their own actions in a way that defines their motivations.  While the audience may not identify with anyone in particular, there are moments when we identify with all of them at least once.

While I was cautioned that this was a simple workshop and not to expect a full-blown production I came away from Lysistrata Rape Play feeling strongly moved and affected by what I’d seen, and frankly didn’t see much lacking.  The performances where superb, the message was strong and the theme was fully realized, both in homage to the original Lysistrata as well as in the brand new world it was meant to capture.    If this was a simple first incarnation I can’t wait to see this play re-mounted.

Rape, it has been said over and over again, is not about sex.  It is about power.  The message here is: In the fight against rape, the way to combat its insidiousness is  diffuse its power.  With laughter … with knowledge … and with equally powerful messages.  So don’t be afraid to say the word rape.  And don’t be afraid to reclaim the power of understanding when it’s okay to laugh at the things that are ridiculous.  The only way to change something is to refuse to stay silent about it.

~~~

Lysistrata Rape Play was part of MicroFest and ran for 3 days only.  Look for future updates to find out more about when you can see a full scale production of this play.

Related Posts:

• Magic Trick – Baring It All (Fringe Festival 2012)
• The Foreplay Play – What Comes Before
• Songs Of Love: A Theatrical Mixtape (Fringe Festival 2012)
• Ampersand’s Rockstar – A Chat With Lauren Hennessy
• Ampersand: A Romeo & Juliet Story (Fringe Festival 2011)

The Happiest Medium welcomes guest reviewer, Mariah MacCarthy. Mariah  is the Producing Director Of CAPS LOCK THEATRE.

It’s a shame that the word “charming” has the air of damning with faint praise, because I’m not sure how else to characterize Nat Cassidy’s Songs of Love: A Theatrical Mixtape. “Charming” sounds cutesy, it sounds mediocre-romantic-comedy, it sounds fluffy, and Mixtape is none of these. It’s simply charming as all get-out. It’s, like, Jon-Stewart-charming. It’s that-fun-co-worker-who-makes-you-actually-look-forward-to-going-to-work charming. You get the idea.

Mixtape is just that, a mixtape (or its theatrical equivalent), in which short plays about love are interspersed with songs about love, which Cassidy sings and plays on guitar. It’s like an episode of “Kids in the Hall” written by Ionesco and scored by Jonathan Richman. And this mixtape is so diverse that at times, you find yourself wondering, “Who is the real Nat Cassidy?” Some shorts are more sketch-y (a song about giving your girlfriend HPV, or a couple of ditzy-seeming club girls who intersperse “I know, right?”s with hilariously highbrow academic references). Some are more absurdist (an unexplained ticking noise that drives a couple apart, or a parking space scuffle that leads to decapitation). It can be hard to believe that the same writer wrote them all, and is a testament to Cassidy’s versatility that he did.

But there are two shorts in the evening where I found myself saying, “Ah-ha. THIS must be the real Nat Cassidy.” In these moments, Cassidy’s voice is truly unique, confident, and strong. These two shorts are so gorgeous they just about defy  gravity.

One is a monologue performed by (dare I say the incomparable?) Kristen Vaughan, in which a third-person “she” looks at the moon and thinks about a long-deceased first love. I can’t think of a way to describe this monologue in a way that does it justice, except to say that I wrote nearly half the thing down verbatim in my notebook as I watched because I wanted to make sure I’d remember those lines.

Lines like, “Innocence is simply experience that hasn’t made up its mind yet.”

Or, “When a possibility dies, it does not leave a body … but it does leave a smell.”

Or, “Bodies are the worst, cruelest liars. And they make up their minds without having all the facts.” It’s hilariously self-referential, and poetic, and chilling.

The other is the penultimate track on this mixtape, a first date that is going really well. When the girl (Abby Royle) presses her date (Ben Williams) to tell her how he found her online, his answer is more than she bargained for: it involves suicide, and manslaughter, and porn, among other things. Williams’ performance in this moment is one of the most upsetting, honest, jaw-droppingly raw moments of theater I’ve ever seen. His date almost runs away (and perhaps we wouldn’t blame her if she did), but when she doesn’t, you feel a little better about humanity, and maybe your eyes mist up.

The ensemble is solid, and they do that unquantifiable thing where you get the impression they really like being onstage with each other and saying these words.

With just a couple of chairs and a table (and a big poster covered in pictures of genital warts), they make rapid jumps in location and tone without ever losing us.

They are energetic and adorable and it’s very easy to want to hug them.

As for the “actual” songs on this mixtape that intersperse the action, the ones that Cassidy performs live…well, they came with the press kit and I’m currently listening to them on repeat and imagine I will be doing so for the foreseeable future. So, there’s that.

At the end of the evening, my date turned to me and said, “This restored my faith in theater,” and it’s easy to see why. Mixtape is compassionate, hysterical, and has moments of gut-punching raw beauty. My one regret is that I saw it so late in its run and can’t actually drive people into its audience. Here’s hoping it comes back to charm us once again.

~~~

Songs of Love: A Theatrical Mixtape
Tin Drum Productions
Writer: Nat Cassidy
Director: Nat Cassidy
Genital warts. Mothmen. Decapitation. Pornography. Bagel fucking. And, of course … love. Join multi-award-winning author Nat Cassidy through terrifyingly twisted, outrageously heartfelt stories of love–each complemented by an original song performed onstage by a live (not dead) musician.
1h 45m   Local   Brooklyn, New York
Comedy   Drama
Staycation: Ride the Rollercoaster of Love   Fantasy Island Excursion
www.whatsyourmixtape.info
VENUE #10: The Players Theatre
Sat 11 @ 2:30  Tue 14 @ 7  Thu 23 @ 9:45  Fri 24 @ 9:45  Sat 25 @ 2:15

Related Posts:

• Magic Trick – Baring It All (Fringe Festival 2012)
• Mariah MacCarthy’s New Play Looks For Laughs In All The Dark Places: Lysistrata Rape Play
• Final Schedule Announced for Fringe Encore Series
• Contrasts (Fringe Festival 2012)
• Dancing Into India – Being Becoming (Fringe Festival 2012)

Sure, Mariah MacCarthy’s new play, Magic Trick, is full of sexy goodness, what with its burlesque routines, girls kissin’ boys, girls kissin’ girls, full on nekkid scenes and all the steamy, flirty, hungry passion that can erupt between two (or three) people caught in a windstorm of lust and love and like and leaving. But scratch the surface of all the seduction and right below you’ll find a strong play filled with true emotion, hard choices, honest conversation, not-always-likable characters, and unanswered questions.

Magic Trick clocks in at over 2 hours but don’t let the run time fool you – the pacing of this show has it feeling much faster thanks to the solid direction of Christina Roussos who uses every opportunity to bring as much information to the audience at once so that each moment is filled to the brim with the identities of these individuals.

The story revolves around Bana (Diana Oh) the beautiful, sexual, confident, wheelchair-bound girlfriend of Eric (Nic Grelli) who, on the night we meet them, are in a club hooting and hollering their admiration for Clara (Kim Gainer) who is performing a sizzling burlesque number.  Talk turns to the couple taking the performer home, and while it doesn’t happen this first scene nicely sets up the parameters of Bana and Eric’s relationship, their views on their sexuality as a couple, and exactly where Bana’s paralysis falls on the spectrum of difficulty- for the couple, for Bana, and for the tone of the play. It also lets the audience in on the secret that Bana and Clara have already been involved for a while.   Additionally MacCarthy neatly informs the audience, with this first scene, that while Bana is paralysed this detail does not define her … it’s simply another one of her characteristics as much as her sense of humor; something to be taken into consideration, but nothing to be singled out.  Like setting up the chess pieces on a board, everything is now in place for the game to be played with a vengeance.

Hereafter MacCarthy plays hard and fast with the timeline mixing present day with flashback so vigorously that – even with the help of cue cards – it can be a bit of a task to sort out where you are in the story line.   If Magic Trick were a more linear story where “A” leading to “B” was the only thing you could rely upon in order for Sherlock Holmes to reveal the criminal in the end, all this jumping around would work against the plot. For Magic Trick, however,  it’s not necessary to follow the time-line as much as follow the need.  While cause and effect generally occurs in a linear way, our minds put the pieces together in an altogether different way, one which lines up events according to importance and flavor and color and texture and sight and sound … not time.  That’s something that McCarthy intuitively understands as she delivers her characters in snapshot moments of happiness, confusion, lust, honesty, despair and anger.

So while the relationship of Bana and Eric is a complicated one, so is the one between Bana and Clara – and the one between Eric and Clara.  Each coupling produces a different side to the individual and Gainer, Grelli and Oh are all fantastic at portraying not only the many different sides that one other individual brings out in them, but then the whole palate and range of different sides that another individual coaxes out.  We watch as Bana goes from loving Eric to experiencing feelings of emotional and physical betrayal.  She moves out  and on to a relationship with Clara – one which she does not label or define, even as Clara longs to define it.  In a powerful scene that highlights Gainer’s raw strength Clara – with Bana’s blessing – couples with Eric only to turn on him in a way that is unnerving to watch.

Whether it’s with a brooding strip routine that coincides with a scene of despair, dancing as metaphor, stripping in anger or baring one’s body because it’s easier than baring one’s soul, all forms of display are evident in Magic Trick - there to illuminate the person as a whole, not simply to titillate.  And while Diana Oh, Kim Gainer and Nic Grelli all strip seductively, with expert wickedness and nuanced allure there’s no mistaking that this play is not about baring skin but about baring emotions.  Which, once revealed to another, can’t be hidden again behind a feather boa.

~~~

Magic Trick
Caps Lock Theatre
Writer: Mariah MacCarthy
Director: Christina Roussos
Bana: Beautiful, paraplegic, missing. Eric: her (ex?) boyfriend, looking for her. Clara: That burlesque dancer they almost took home. Bana’s donning pasties, Eric’s losing his sh*t, and Clara gets naked and won’t leave. A love story with burlesque.
2h 40m   Local   Manhattan, New York
Drama   Vaudeville/Sideshow/Magic/Burlesque
Staycation: Ride the Rollercoaster of Love   My NYC Story
www.capslocktheatre.com/
VENUE #18: HERE Mainstage Theater
Sat 18 @ 12  Sun 19 @ 3  Tue 21 @ 4  Thu 23 @ 8  Sat 25 @ 7

Related Posts:

• The Foreplay Play – What Comes Before
• Mariah MacCarthy’s New Play Looks For Laughs In All The Dark Places: Lysistrata Rape Play
• Songs Of Love: A Theatrical Mixtape (Fringe Festival 2012)
• GRIMM: A New Musical – Two Sisters, One Necklace (Fringe Festival 2012)
• The Connected: Bundle #1 (Fringe Festival 2012)

There is a very telling moment which comes two thirds of the way into Mariah MacCarthy’s play The Foreplay Play which is currently being produced by CAPS LOCK THEATRE  at a site-specific location (WAY off-off Broadway) in Williamsburg.  This dramedy about the tension which builds between two couples as they tentatively (and sometimes not so tentatively) lay the foundation for a night of orgiastic bliss has many titillating moments, but the one which encapsulated this show for me was probably the least sexual of the night.

After a series of awkward missteps, false starts, jumping the gun (but not without a few hot hot, drrrrrty, breathtaking, throw-you-up-against-the-wall, take-you-right-now-on-the-kitchen-counter moments) Kyle, the sole male of the intended foursome is strumming a guitar and the quartet has just finished a rousing rendition of Springteen’s Hungry Heart.  In and of itself  Hungry Heart is a beautiful moment – each character singing with completely different motivation: some with actual hunger in their heart, some with nothing more than Springsteen Joy, and others with the taste of a memory, perhaps.  Regardless of subtext, the four voices blend beautifully, and yet perfectly naturally – the way any four people with decent singing voices might automatically take the harmonies.  They all know the words, they understand the nuances, they enjoy the camaraderie the singing produces, and the moment is binding.  The telling moment comes right after, when three of the four decide to launch into Since You’ve Been Gone.

Nic Grelli, Lindsey Austen,Diana Oh and Parker Leventer (Photo by Kacey Stamats)

“I don’t know this song,” pouts Anika (Lindsey Austen) and soon her pout erupts into full-on anger.  She has a tantrum, runs from the room, and leaves the others feeling awkward, embarrassed, perhaps guilty, but – let’s be honest – a little smug.  We know something you don’t know.

Herein lies the key to good group ANYTHING – but for the purposes of this review we’ll stick to group sex.  In order for it to work, everyone has to be in harmony.  Everyone has to feel comfortable.  Everyone has to know where to pick up, where to leave off, where to come in, and when to hold back.  Moving forward when someone clearly doesn’t “know the words” to a certain song (read – doesn’t know the rules of a certain situation) is only going to lead to tantrums.

What The Foreplay Play illustrates and illuminates beautifully is that bringing the fantasy (again, of anything, but specifically group sex) into the real world is a daunting process even if all the clothes are laid out neatly on the bed for you beforehand.  Just because you have a piano and ten fingers doesn’t mean you’ll suddenly sit down and start playing Mozart.  Even further – simply because you can play the piano doesn’t mean you’ll be able to play a complete performance of all the Chopin Etudes.  And so – just because you like sex doesn’t mean you can have it with three other people you’re fond of without someone hitting a harsh note.  Perception is easy.  Reality is hard.  Or … let’s go with “difficult”.

The foursome of The Foreplay Play is made up of  Kyle (Nic Grelli) who is sweet, earnest and charming.  He’s manly and studly but he’s gentle enough to break down and fall apart when emotions overwhelm him.  (And this night is rife with overwhelming emotions of all types).  Kyle’s girlfriend is Anika (Lindsey Austen) - a yearning, tentative girl who fancies herself experimental but, when push comes to shove, can’t get out of her own way far enough to move past “vanilla” (which, to this crowd, is more of an insult than a subtle flavor choice).  They are hosted for the evening by Anika’s co-worker Isabel (Diana Oh) who is a power house of sexuality and seduction.  While Izzy doesn’t actively set out to seduce everyone in the room she is somehow the center of the sexual vortex here as both Kyle and Anika find themselves longing for her in ways that (if you’re an audience member with any sort of pulse) will have you catching your breath.  The quartet is rounded out by Isabel’s live-in lover Kelly (Parker Leventer) who is sure of herself, a self-professed Dom who dominates in rooms other than the bedroom and enjoys making others feel uncomfortable, even as she insists on ground rules and guidelines for the evening.

Throughout the evening of foreplay each gets their turn to take a spin in front of the mirror, as it were.  On display this evening for all of us (and for each other) to see are each character’s most charming qualities, their most annoying habits, their sexiest urges, their most awkward discomfort.  Separately and together they all find themselves acting out, taking the lead, taking a backseat, or simply bobbing along as they watch the inevitable happen.

The cast is strong, each delivering a nuanced performance which gives you an opportunity to side with them or against them depending on the flow of the evening.  Under Leta Tremblay’s fine direction the night is hyper-real.  The play is, as I mentioned, site specific – so this Williamsburg apartment (big by New York standards but rather intimate for a play) creates an immediate fly-on-the-wall scenario.  (Be warned that seating is limited and, like a game of musical chairs, there’s a rush for seats once the apartment door opens.  Latecomers will be sitting on cushions up front.  Those with knee problems who are loathe to sitting on the floor are, unfortunately, SOL).

The intimacy of the space allows Tremblay to give the characters a whole host of real-time actions to work with – actual dinner to be prepared, actual exits from the apartment to be made.  Tremblay also deftly balances all the craziness (Twister! Knife play! Costumes and fake accents! Spin the bottle!) with a solid anchor of gravitas so that rather than feeling MacCarthy is throwing a lot at the wall to see what sticks in terms of theme this feels much more like four actual people who are twisting and turning their way through a strange encounter in order to make it fit for all involved.  Unfortunately no matter how many games of Twister they play the right combination just won’t fall into place.

MacCarthy aims for – and delivers – a night of questions rather than answers.  A night of seeking rather than finding, and a night which flips over the rocks to explore the grime underneath.  While no one gets very naked, emotionally the cast strips bare and the four individuals share intimacies on a level much deeper than the simple exchanging of bodily fluids.  Ultimately sex is besides the point.  MacCarthy, in her Playwright’s Note, admits that the play “ends up being a celebration of love, not sex”.

CAPS LOCK THEATRE, on their website, states, “We like plays where people are at both their worst and their best; where people screw each other–or themselves–over, and have to find a way to deal with it; where people’s hearts hurt, or open, or blossom.”  I’d say that The Foreplay Play does all of this – and perfectly.

~~~

THE FOREPLAY PLAY

A new play by Mariah MacCarthy
Directed by Leta Tremblay
This play takes place at a site-specific apartment in Williamsburg - Brooklyn, NY
Location will be disclosed to audience members upon ticket purchase

Thursdays-Sundays at 8pm

April 19-May 6, 2012

Click here for tickets

Related Posts:

• Magic Trick – Baring It All (Fringe Festival 2012)
• Mariah MacCarthy’s New Play Looks For Laughs In All The Dark Places: Lysistrata Rape Play
• The Un-Marrying Project: Passion Is Easy – Commitment Is Hard
• BITTEN – One Last Drink
• Songs Of Love: A Theatrical Mixtape (Fringe Festival 2012)

Lauren Hennessy (photo by Cathryn Lynne / WWW.CATHRYNLYNNEPHOTO.COM)

It’s no secret that Mariah MacCarthy’s beautiful Ampersand: A Romeo & Juliet Story struck a deep chord with me; I loved so many things about it.  For me it was one of the highlights of this season’s Fringe Festival.  So when the wonderful Lauren Hennessy was the recipient of an award for overall excellence for her work as Romeo I was thrilled that this talented woman was being recognized for her remarkable skills as not only an actress but as an overall performer.  In MacCarthy’s Ampersand Romeo is a rock singer with a devoted following … and the minute Hennessy takes the stage there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that she’s got the goods to pull it off.

The Fringe dust has settled, and I was able to chat with Lauren to find out how much of Romeo is really Lauren, how she feels about working with the talent Mariah MacCarthy … and just which role she’d love to play if anything were possible.  Read on …

Lauren!  First of all, congratulations on winning the FringeNYC 2011 Overall Excellence Award for Performance! I was lucky enough to see your show and I was captivated by your performance – so I know how well deserved this award is. I’d love to know a little more about your character and the journey that you, as an actor, took.

Ampersand is “A Romeo & Juliet Story” … and you embodied the character of Romeo. Tell me who this updated Romeo is to you personally.

LH: It’s funny you ask…This Romeo is essentially me if I were driven solely on emotional reaction alone. You’ve heard of id, ego and superego? Romeo is the personification of my id. From wearing her heart on her sleeve, to being carried away by romantic distractions, to murdering in a flash of anger, to feeling and living out the extremities of love, hatred, anger, rage, sex and joy. Some filters are good and I have to work every day to keep my impulses under control as not to affect other people negatively. For as we saw with Romeo, it could be detrimental to my life. So yeah, Romeo hits home with me and was not a tough suit to try on.

Lauren Hennessy and Brigitte Choura. Photo by Kacey Anisa

Romeo is a singer – and obviously so are you … Romeo is charismatic, charming and it would seem (by the way you adlibbed) so are you. You see where I’m going with this. How much of Romeo is pure Lauren and how much was already on the page?

Hahaaaaaaa I suppose I answered this question above. When I was a kid, I always wanted to be the Fonz. Mariah just helped me live my dream. I know that sounds douchey. I just loved the charisma and charm of James Dean, Marlon Brando and 50′s era cool-cats. In some way I identified with them at a very young age. Romeo reminds me of these guys very much so. Mariah has a weird way of writing me.

You’ve worked with writer Mariah MacCarthy and Purple Rep before. How important is it as an actor to create a dynamic with a playwright? What does it wind up doing for the character?

Mariah and I have found each other. Thats how I see it. She writes characters very relatable to me in terms of speaking and personality but also in terms of parallel lives. Many experiences that my characters have had, I’ve had. The characters that I’ve played in Mariah’s work always have a mental and emotional struggle with themselves. I constantly am thinking too much and putting too much pressure on myself to do what I think is the right thing. So does Romeo, Devon and Cindy (all characters I’ve played in Mariah’s plays). These characters, like me, are their own best friends and their own worst enemy.

Because I’m able to embody and portray Mariah’s characters so comfortably, we’ve developed a trust to a point where she lets me take some artistic license with the character’s choices, lines and development. This is a gift I’ve never experienced before. I can’t say I’ve even met most of the playwrights whose work I’ve done. This is a true artistic partnership and we’ve vowed to make each other famous.

Of all the roles in the world, written or unwritten, what would be your next dream role?

Damn this question is like: what’s your favorite song or book? … I’d love to play Nancy in a Broadway revival of Oliver! Probably not my dream role but it’s the first thing that popped into my head just now. Oh, I know! Whatever role gets me a TONY. Can I say Stanley Kowalski in Streetcar…? I’m thinking of other roles now. You said just one. Nevermind. Skip?? I’ll get back to you!!

You just won an award … I think you can give me two.  And if there’s anyone who can play Nancy AND Stanley Kowalski, dang – Lauren … it’s you.

Bonus question – no holds barred! Feel free to tell me anything at all … More about Ampersand, tell me a joke, give me the lyrics of your favorite song, explain what you’re most passionate about, plug a project (or a friend’s project!) The Mic is yours!

Ok selfish moment…GO: I won an Icelandic Academy Award [for the movie 'Clean'] this year and an ‘Overall excellence in performance’ from NYC Fringe…I am currently seeking representation!!! LaurenHennessy.com.

C’mon!  Someone represent this chick already!

Lauren … it was great to find out more about you, and I hope as your star keeps rising we can keep checking in with you.  Again, congratulations on all this wonderful (and well deserved!) success.  You’re a rockstar.

Related Posts:

• Ampersand: A Romeo & Juliet Story (Fringe Festival 2011)
• The All-American Genderf*ck Cabaret – Equal Opportunity Exploration
• FringeNYC 2011 Announces Overall Excellence Award Winners
• The Team Behind “Gay Plays For Straight People (And Also Gay People)” Gives Me Some Straight Answers (And Also Some Gay Answers)
• Mariah MacCarthy’s New Play Looks For Laughs In All The Dark Places: Lysistrata Rape Play

Ampersand: A Romeo & Juliet Story (written by Mariah MacCarthy, directed by Amanda Thompson)  is just that … “A”  Romeo & Juliet story – not a 100% faithful retelling of THE Romeo and Juliet story.  First of all, Romeo and Juliet are both women.  So, right away, by making this a gender-issue play and bringing in questions of Juliet’s orientation – questions she must ask herself as much as we the audience must ask of the play – an entirely different  layer is added to this tale which is deeper and more complex.  And since this layer is deeper and complex, so is the love story.  There’s an urgency that doesn’t -can’t- exist in a heterosexual telling of this story, and that adds to the thoughtfulness and despair.  And the hope.

Sometimes, no matter what two people do to stay apart, fate will find a way to throw them into each other’s arms.  And sometimes fate will even use trickery, deception, and camouflage in order to make sure that these two people don’t miss their meeting.  Take rocker Romeo Montague (Lauren Hennessy) and homecoming queen Juliet Capulet (Brigette Choura) who both hail from fair Verona, Iowa.  They are currently embroiled in a bitter family feud as their mothers – mayoral candidate Claire Capulet (Jeremy Michael Lagunas) and current mayor Evelyn Montague (Matt Welsh) – sling mud at each other and expect their daughters to do the same, while still acting with a modicum of decorum.  Easier said than done.

Romeo (Lauren Hennessy) & Juliet (Brigitte Choura) Photo by Kacey Anisa

Romeo – an out and proud lesbian – professes to have a crush on the presumably straight Juliet and goes about getting her attention by penning a tune called “Hey Bitch” and then letting it go viral on YouTube.  This move is tantamount to a boy pulling a girl’s hair in the school yard and then running away – with much the same effect; Juliet is intrigued, but feigns annoyance.  And of course, she’s straight so there’s really no underlying interest.  After all, she has a fiance doesn’t she?  Never mind that Paris Roberts (Nic Grelli) is somewhat wimpy, rather spineless, and altogether sexless.  (They’ve agreed to wait until marriage to have sex and he doesn’t seem to push the point much).

So when Romeo does herself up in male drag in order to pursue another woman (Rosalind), and finds herself instead romancing a masked, unrecognizable Juliet, this couple truly doesn’t know what they’re about to embark on.  What they do know is, they’d have more luck stopping a freight train with their fist then they would stopping this attraction they both feel.

In this version, Romeo and Juliet do not pine for each other desperately and live in a far reaching fantasy of flight, fancy and fairyland (okay, okay, I know that they died in the end.  But I’m making a point …) in Verona, Iowa these two gals are living it day by day and that means dealing with what it means when one is out and one is not, when one is proud and one is not, when one is willing to do anything for the relationship and one … well, one isn’t so sure.

The only thing I found more of a distraction than anything was the blurring of gender lines in terms of casting.  While I applaud the idea that anyone can play anything and I agree with the intention behind it I just couldn’t quite understand what purpose was served by having the mothers played by men in drag … and was even further confused by the grandfather being played by a woman (Anna Savant).  It was strange to insert gender-bending actors in a play that dealt so strongly with a character struggling with her orientation.

Lauren Hennessy and Brigette Choura are perfectly cast as the desperate, star-crossed lovers; Hennessy in particular.  Her Romeo is confounded by this deep love which twists her in knots – making her feel unconquerable one moment (“Daisy Girl”) and crushed the next (“Plastic Girl”).  She is breathtakingly real … often funny, sometimes sarcastic and deeply sexy … her chemistry with Choura (not only during their intimate moments but during her moments of longing as well) can be felt all the way in the back row, and considering this show is playing at The Ellen Stewart Theatre that’s saying a lot.  When she sings she seduces and bewitches everyone in the room.

The music by Brian Kirchner is very good, not only standing well on its own but remarkable at underscoring moments in the play when words are not enough.  The choir – Diana Oh, Julie Ek and Lauren Weinberg – have some wonderful moments and their “How Will It Happen To You” which closes act one is positively mesmerizing.

The great thing about Ampersand: A Romeo & Juliet Story is that it will leave you not only entertained but with a lot to think about.  And that’s what important theatre is all about.

~~~

Ampersand: A Romeo & Juliet Story
Purple Rep
Writer: Mariah MacCarthy
Director: Amanda Thompson
2h 30m
www.purplerep.com
VENUE #9: The Ellen Stewart Theatre @ LA MAMA
Thu 18 @ 2 Sat 20 @ 12 Sat 27 @ 7:45

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• The All-American Genderf*ck Cabaret – Equal Opportunity Exploration
• Something Wicked (2014 Frigid New York Festival)

There are so many ways that the notion of gender can be fucked with (or – to continue a theme “f*cked” with) that the idea of throwing it all up there on the  stage and cabareting the hell out of is an appealing one.   Mariah MacCarthy’s The All-American Genderf*ck Cabaret (directed by Heidi Handelsman) takes a whole lotta gender and then, indeed, fucks with it like crazy.

All the stereotypes are there in full force: as Ms. MacCarthy put it in her interview with me earlier this month “a Feminine Woman, a Feminine Man, a Masculine Woman, a Masculine Man, a Gay Woman, a Gay Man, a Promiscuous Woman, and a Promiscuous Man. Which translates roughly into Girly Girl, Nice Guy/Metrosexual, Tomboy, Meathead, Feminist Lesbian, Gay Best Friend, Slut, and Player.” However, even though these labels are slapped onto the envelopes of these characters, they are soon peeled away with just as much intention.  So, just when you think you know what’s what you’ll find that the tough girl, Devon, (Lauren Hennessy) is actually not a lesbian (what?) - she’s just a tomboy.  And that sweet guy, Benji (Jordan Tierney)? No, he is not gay (huh?). He’s actually very straight – and the best lover his (promiscuous girlfriend) Gwen (Catherine LeFrere) has ever had.  Meanwhile the mouthy guy, Dick (Jamahl Garrison-Lowe) who talks the talk doesn’t walk the walk at all.  He’s a (gasp) virgin and would rather talk to his toddler nephew than seriously pursue a woman.  But you’d never know it from the way he throws out statistics of his romantic conquests.

Jamahl Garrison-Lowe, Yeauxlanda Kay, Lindsay Naas, Lauren Hennessy, Catherine LeFrere, Esteban Benito, Wes Urish, Jordan Tierney (Photo by Kacey Stamats)

All this is MC’d by the androgynous (or genderqueer, take your pick) Taylor (Kim Gainer) who has characteristics of both sexes, the wisdom of a boatload of every gender combo you can think of, but is walking through this mine field right along with the rest of us.  There you have it, folks. Welcome to  The All-American Genderf*ck Cabaret.

One note – if you come to the show looking for a traditional cabaret, you should understand that the term is used in a loose sort of way.  Think more “Cabaret” than cabaret – meaning more story than music, though there is a fair share of production numbers that are rousing, energetic, and enough to get you bopping in your seat.  Still, what you’ll mainly be seeing is a series of vignettes that define, defend, devour and denounce everything you ever thought you knew about what it means to be a man, to be a woman, or to leave that box unchecked on the form.

The most important points that The All-American Genderf*ck Cabaret make are 1) people, in an effort to make sure they are not  judged solely on their gender insecurities, will often overcompensate and swing widely in the other direction, desperately trying to find validation, only to then feel remorse, anger, confusion and diminishment when they are misunderstood, or (more harshly) mis-labeled.  And while the greater notion is that no one should be labeling anyone else, to expect this is naive.  And 2) Gender rarely – if ever – should be confused with sexuality and yet every day it (mistakenly) is.  Who you are inclined to have sex with has no bearing on how aligned you are to your gender.  Nowhere is this point more perfectly illustrated than in the budding romance between Kate (Yeauxlanda Kay) – a lesbian who finds herself drawn to the undefined Taylor and can’t allow herself to dive into the relationship without first knowing Taylor’s gender … rather than Taylor’s orientation.  The fact that the two are equally attracted to each other doesn’t seem to help Kate make the decsion as much as knowing Taylor’s gender would.   Fascinating.

None of these characters have simple story-lines which travel from point a to point b in a traditional way; and because of that we’re afforded the opportunity to see some scenarios play out in ways that manipulate normal boundaries.  There are time shifts, dream sequences, dance breaks, behind-the-scenes exposition, all aided by the gender-removed-all-knowing-all-seeing Taylor who gets a storyline of her own.  I mean his own.  Shis own?  I don’t think we have a possessive pronoun yet for those unhindered by conventional gender boundaries, but I would hope we’re working on it.

Regardless of your own orientation, predilection, or habits you’ll find something in The All-American Genderf*ck Cabaret to identify with.  Probably in ways that will surprise you – and it might even be from a character you’d never have aligned yourself with going in.  But that’s how they roll at the Genderf*ck Cabaret.  Go see for yourself.

~~~

GAY PLAYS FOR STRAIGHT PEOPLE (and Also Gay People)

The All-American Genderf*ck Cabaret

Related Posts:

• Ampersand’s Rockstar – A Chat With Lauren Hennessy
• The Team Behind “Gay Plays For Straight People (And Also Gay People)” Gives Me Some Straight Answers (And Also Some Gay Answers)
• Ampersand: A Romeo & Juliet Story (Fringe Festival 2011)
• The Un-Marrying Project: Passion Is Easy – Commitment Is Hard
• Lesbian Love Octagon – How Many Lesbians Does It Take To Screw In A …

Gay Plays for Straight People (and also gay people) is comprised of two plays which will play in rep brought to you by the new theatre company Purple Rep founded by playwrights Larry Kunofsky and Mariah MacCarthy.  The plays - Kunofsky’s The Un-Marrying Project and MacCarthy’s The All-American Genderf*ck Cabaret – will run from April 8-30 at The Paradise Factory (64 East 4th Street between 2nd Ave and Bowery).

Larry  and Mariah took some time to answer my questions and give me some straight answers (and also some not-just-straight answers) about what they’re passionate about, how they explore the fuckupedness of both genders, what it means, exactly, to be “un-married”, and how they intend to keep blending it all up in an effort to keep it Purple.  Read on …

 

 

 

 

 

Let’s get right into the title. Gay Plays for Straight People (and also gay people).  So – really … everyone, right?  Transgendered, Bi, Bi Curious … poly amorous … even those who are abstinent for personal reasons or just because that’s the cards they were dealt.  So tell me how you came up with that title.
Mariah: We both had these plays we were really passionate about. One is about married people divorcing in the name of gay marriage, and one is about the limitations of gender norms. That’s a lot of queer themes swirling around, but roughly two thirds of our characters are straight and we’re a “straight” couple, which gave us the “gay plays for straight people” idea. But, let’s face it, there’s already plenty of “gay” culture that’s really for straight people, or has been whitewashed to make it “palatable” for straight people, and that’s not what these plays are. These plays come from a real passionate place, as allies and, for me, as a pansexual woman who just happens to be in love with a man. And we want to make sure that the community for whom we are allies knows that these plays are for them. So we added “and also gay people.”But, yes, these plays are absolutely for everyone. Genderf*ck‘s characters, for a start, are gay, lesbian, heteroflexible, genderqueer, and straight–and some of them have not had sex in a longtime, or ever. And the characters in The Un-Marrying Project are gay, straight, WASPs in their 80s, Orthodox Jews, working-class Bronx families, wealthy immigrants, Long Island Italians…you get the idea. These are gay plays for everybody.

Larry: If there’s a link between Mariah’s work as a playwright and my work as a playwright – even before we get into what Purple Rep is about – that link is about Sex and Identity. All our plays are about sex, and there’s usually a fair amount of sex in them. Even if it’s not onstage sex (which does occur, too) it’s the notion that sex has simply MADE these characters.

We’re born from sex and we come alive again on a whole other level whenever we have sex. That’s in ALL our plays! And then there’s identity.  Maybe all plays are about a protagonist searching for who he/she is, and our plays can certainly be seen through this lens. Which brings us to Gay Plays For Straight People (And Also Gay People). Hetero- or Homosexuality is not just about choice or how someone is wired, but also about how someone perceives oneself and is perceived. And we are celebrating this. Sometimes sex and identity issues can be oppressive, so we’re not proselytizing about any aspect of this spectrum (we want to look at and write about all of this as comprehensively as possible), but we think that this kind of fluidity within the too often rigid societal expectations on an individual can be liberating. Something that Mariah & I kept saying to each other to make this clear when we were rewriting our plays was, Gay Is A Color. I tried using that as a line in my play, but it never quite fit. But Purple Rep is about all kinds of colors.

The All-American Genderfuck Cabaret features “eight gender stereotypes”.  How stereotypical are they?  Like … the slut, theprude, the metrosexual, the jock … or will it take some work for the audience to pick them out?
Mariah: You’ll be able to figure it out pretty quickly. You have a Feminine Woman, a Feminine Man, a Masculine Woman, a Masculine Man, a Gay Woman, a Gay Man, a Promiscuous Woman, and a Promiscuous Man. Which translates roughly into Girly Girl, Nice Guy/Metrosexual, Tomboy, Meathead, Feminist Lesbian, Gay Best Friend, Slut, and Player. The play is definitely set up to help you figure these labels out as quickly as possible–so that we can then transcend them, and learn what contradicts or lies beneath these labels.

The Happiest Medium just wrapped up a series on Women’s History Month.  Ispecifically asked women how gender played a role in how they’ve been treated in their chosen paths.  The answers ran the gamut.  So I ask the same question here, but a little differently – will Genderfuck deal with the fuck-upedness found in both genders, or does it lean alittle to one … and if so, which one?
Mariah: Ooh. Love this question! Short answer: Yes, there is fuck-upedness in both genders, and this play definitely tries to explore both. Being a woman, I probably spend more time exploring the fuck-upedness of femininity/the myth of “female identity,” but maybe not–maybe that’s all in my head. This play has been performed before, a year ago, and a lot of men told me how strongly they related to it. When it comes to sex especially, we’re all caught in sort of a weird dance: pursuing/having sex can make us feel special and happy and joyful, or it can make us feel bored and disappointed that it didn’t fix our lives and whiten our teeth and balance our checkbook or whatever we thought it was going to do. And this experience in America is often different for men and women. A statistic I heard about five years ago continues to haunt me: when surveyed, women’s most common fear was being raped and/or murdered, while men’s most common fear was being laughed at. I think a lot of the play comes from the exploration of those fears.

Really, the play is about how we all have infinite choices. If you want to wear a dress, you can. If you wear a dress because you feel pressured to do so but don’t really like it, don’t wear one. If you want to have sex, you should. If you want to stop having sex because for whatever reason it’s not enjoyable for you right now, you should. If you feel like you’re a man or a woman or both or neither or something else, be that. It’s all about what will make you feel happy and connected and sexy.

Mariah MacCarthy and Larry Kunofsky (Photo by Marissa Bea)

 

The second part of the Gay Plays For Straight People (And Also Gay People) is The Un-Marrying Project.  It deals with straight married people who are “un marrying” in support of gay marriage … and not re-marrying until it’s legal for everyone. Larry, tell me how this idea came to you.
Larry: I’ve been happily unmarried my whole adult life. But even though I’ve known that marriage was not my deal since forever, it is a right that our laws seem to withhold from a specific class of people and I truly am outraged by this. My patron saint in thinking about how to respond to this issue has been Rosa Parks. A brave and intelligent, but ultimately, by her own admission, a very ordinary person who broke the law in a very simple way that helped change the world. My initial impulse in writing this play was in looking at well-meaning people who would de-marry, if you will, as a similar type of civil disobedience. But that brought me to the notion of how disruptive any deviation from the norm can be. There’s danger in making waves – sometimes people drown. I tend to idolize the individuals behind the civil rights movements of the sixties. I do believe that – with Gandhi as their model – they were hoping for a bloodless revolution. The tragedy was how bloody this bloodless revolution was. And most of the blood seemed to be shed on the side of the just. But ask any survivors if they regret it…

If you two were married, would you actually commit this “act of civil disobedience” if you knew it could bring about change?
Mariah: Yes. We’d do fucking anything if we knew it could bring about change.

Larry: I don’t claim to be a brave or adventurous person, but when I look back at my early years of grade school, my main regret is not getting into trouble enough. I must confess, as an adult, I spend most of my time looking for trouble. That might explain why my past theatre companies broke up and why I’ve been fired from a lot of jobs, but choice and freedom is about calling people (and more importantly, institutions) on their bullshit. So it’s like that early Brando movie, where he’s a biker, and someone asks him, What are you rebelling against, and he’s, like, “Whattya got?!” I’m all for that.

Purple Rep is a relatively new company.  I love your mission statement:” … plays that make you see red and hear the blues … until it all mixes in your mind’s eye into a purple rush.” That’s a tall order.What plans do you have to keep this strong mission alive?
Mariah: We plan to keep writing. Purple Rep will eventually do plays by people other than Larry Kunofsky and Mariah MacCarthy, but we started this company because we wanted to do each other’s work. Our work, while vastly different from each other, come from our hearts and guts. I once had a writing teacher ask me, after I brought in a scene with lots of punching in it, “Do you want to hit people?” I immediately responded, “Yes.” I think sometimes I write plays instead of hitting people.

Yet I consider myself a compassionate writer–and often, that compassion just adds sadness to that rage. When we sympathize with a rapist or an abuser or a cheater or a liar or a murderer, that’s tragedy. We know we could have been them under different circumstances, so whatever happens to them could happen to us. So that rage and compassionate-sadness–that seeing-red, hearing-blue thing–is characteristic of a lot of our work.  And so are our senses of humor–all that rage and sadness won’t sink in unless an audience laughs with you first. We really consider these plays especially to be great expressions of joy. So, we intend to keep doing plays that have their share of red and blue and laughs.

Larry: That’s such a vital question! Right now we’re hoping to stay afloat through THIS mini-season, but we are trying to see what our next mini-season, or the one after that will look like. Basically, we’re trying to explore how we put the REP in PURPLE REP. This time around we shared the same space and the same designers, sure, but perhaps we’ll do a mini-season with one shared director. Maybe we’ll do one shared cast. We want to constantly re-define what our REP is. And PURPLE is clearly about sexuality this time, but next time… PURPLE can be about race; about the body; about the blending of all kinds of themes. PURPLE is a rorschach color for us, and we’re looking at ways to look at Purple in new ways. Maybe that sounds a little Art School, but to paraphrase something I said earlier, Theatre is a color. We’re testing out the hues and shades through which we can continue participating in this medium.

Thanks for answering these questions!  Looking forward to seeing the shows!

Larry: Thank you! These questions were Purple to begin with! You’re One Of Us!!!!!!

I’m honored to be one of you.  Can’t wait to see the shows!

~~~

The All-American Genderf*ck Cabaret

The Un-Marrying Project

The Paradise Factory

64 E. 4th St.

New York, NY 10003

United States

 

 

 

Related Posts:

• The Un-Marrying Project: Passion Is Easy – Commitment Is Hard
• Larry Kunofsky – Unimaginably Imaginative. But NOT Imaginary – Take 1
• The All-American Genderf*ck Cabaret – Equal Opportunity Exploration
• Larry Kunofsky Take 2 … Still Imaginative – Nowhere Near Imaginary
• The Myths We Need -Or- How To Begin: The Play You Need To See