I was a minority on Wednesday night. Upon arriving at the Scottsdale Center for the Arts, my companion and I went to the restroom, where I discovered a sign on the Men's Room stating "Temporary Women's Restroom." After searching, I finally broke down and asked one of the SCA staff "Where have you hidden the men's room?" I was directed to a little-used back restroom and forced to wait in line. I could think of no better start to my evening as an interloper into the world of women's empowerment.
The marginalization of women takes many forms. One of the most insidious is the degradation of their genitalia. Words like "pussy," "snatch" and "cunt" have a negative connotation, and while men are encouraged to boast of their sex organs, an air of mystery has shrouded female private parts. In 1996, playwright Eve Ensler shocked a supposedly enlightened society with her frank discussion of the unmentionable with The Vagina Monologues. As theatre, the script isn't really all that innovative, save for the subject matter and its blunt presentation. That speaks volumes about how far our culture needs to advance to even approach equality. The nearly sold-out audience of approximately 85 percent women tittered at pretty straightforward material, emboldened by hearing spoken what should never be taboo in the first place. Ms. Ensler recounts interviews with all strata of society (although decidedly New York-centric), asking such probing questions as "If your vagina could dress up, what would it wear?" and "What two words would your vagina say?" The evening is often quite funny, tipping several sacred cows in the process, and sometimes heartbreakingly poignant.
This presentation, featuring local legend and former Wonder Woman Lynda Carter, does suffer a bit from its star treatment. Director Abby Epstein is given two seasoned professionals with which to work, and their performances are energetic and polished. Amy J. Carle and Michele Shay, both veterans of the original off-Broadway production, are in absolute command of the material. Each is given two very specific moments of power, one comedic and one dramatic. All three have their requisite index cards, but Ms. Carle and Ms. Shay utilize them for effect, while Ms. Carter hangs onto hers for dear life. Did she not have much rehearsal or time to learn her part? From the way that she reads, haltingly, with bad scans and awkward emphases, one would guess that this was a cold read for her. Such is the danger of the trend for productions of this play: the star turn in the middle surrounded by two supportive, stronger actresses. That isn't to say that she doesn't have her moments, too, such as her decent rendition of a reluctant septuagenarian, but all too often, she'll lose her place or skip a word, and the performance devolves once more to her fellow actresses.
With that said, though, nothing can take away the other many shining moments. In one monologue, Ms. Shay recounts the reminiscences of a socialite searching for her clitoris in a "vagina workshop." Equally as funny is the militant moan addict that Ms. Carle becomes, demonstrating the myriad of women's moans that she has made it her quest to discover. There are equal dashes of pathos, too, as Ms. Carle recounts the story of a Bosnian rape victim, and Ms. Shay becomes a young Latina who speaks of the rash of disasters that beset her "Coochie-snorker."
Just like any other revolutionary tract, the power of this play comes from the unlocking of society's strong inhibitions more than from dramatic tension. To that end, it's wonderful to see women of all levels of society thronging the SCA to do their own subversive part to celebrate their bodies, themselves. As we left, my companion remarked that "a lot of people are going to get laid tonight." Stronger, less repressed, more in touch and even a bit randy. There are many worse ways to leave a theatre.
Production Details:
The Vagina Monologues by Eve Ensler
Scottsdale Center
for the Arts (For a
map to location, click this
link)
(480) 994-2787
June 4th - 16th, 2002