Company: Twinhead Theatre
Venue: The Playwrights' Center
Die Roll: 10
Having gotten out of the prior show with just a few extra minutes to spare, I ducked into the coffee shop across the street from the PWC. I ate a croissant and a bottle of Pomegranate juice (Did you know that the Spanish word for Pomegranate is "Granada," as in the city?)
So... There were about 30 people in the audience once I got back to Resisting the Birthmark: A Feminist Theory Play. Of those about 7, including myself were male. That made me happy. I was afraid of being one of two guys in a play that put the word feminist in the title (subtitle, really). I've gained new hope for the male half of our species.
Now, a play that wants to make a point can do so in any number of ways. The really well done ones will weave the message throughout but not slam the audience over the head with the message, so that everyone walks away understanding the point without feeling bludgeoned. Then, there is what this play did.
We were first treated to a blatantly didactic introduction, then inculcated with feminist analysis of an archaic short story, and finally presented the moral with a sledgehammer. The message of this play was not so offensive as the delivery method. Marshall McLuhan once said that "The Medium is the Message." He followed that statement with another: "The Medium is the Massage." Point being? How you say something is often far more important to getting your point across than the very point you're trying to make.
There were some good things about this production. A number of the actors were skilled...Angelyn Pass and John McLouth stood out, as did Dana Miller. However, the cast was inconsistent, and the direction was odd, to say the least. Most of the staging decisions would be hard to justify. Some were billiant, though. Basically, it was inconsistent, too.
Two quick points... I like women. This is not a statement of heterosexuality, although that would apply as well. This is a statement of support for what many will see as feminist ideals. I support certain feminist theatre companies with my efforts, my money, and my devotion. I don't normally feel it necessary to declare this, because I don't feel that I'm normally at risk of being seen as anti-feminism. However, given the thoughts that are about to come down further on this page, I thought I should make a qualifying statement. Not to mention, I'm producing an entirely female production in this Fringe.
The second point...theatre by its very nature is didactic. We learn somethign every time we see a show. We do not need to be lectured as part of one. That is not good theatre, good performance art, or even good teaching methodology.
This play makes valid points as it analyses the story originally written by Nathaniel Hawthorne, but the points were more appropriately suited to an academic paper than a play. In fact, it felt like a paper brought to life. Granted, sometimes we want our philosophic points to be heard by more than the minute population of academia, but in an effort to bring it to a bigger audience, we must consider that audience and how they are likely to receive it. This play occaisionally tried to use theatricality, but didn't use the art of theatre.
I'd had much higher hopes for this show... and so...my 10 word summary: Feminist tears at flesh of old story, misses the point.
RATING: "d6 - Has Some Merit"
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