There is a tradition in contemporary American politics and popular culture that liberals tend to "play fair" while conservatives "play hardball." For example, a stereotypical liberal will wait patiently for her turn to speak, while a stereotypical conservative will try to shout his opponent down. There are, of course, exceptions to every rule, but one need only listen to Glenn Beck, Rush Limbaugh or C-SPAN to see examples of these clichés.
Toeing the line somewhere in between the crossroads of "fair," "hardball," "liberal" and "conservative" is Girls in Trouble, a new offering by shock-playwright Jonathan Reynolds currently running at the Flea. The play takes on the ever-controversial issue of abortion, looking at how it affects lives in the staid early 1960s, free-wheeling 1980s and post-terrorist 21st century. The Common thread through all these eras is the character of Cynthia (Eboni Booth), who starts out as a child whose mother performs illegal abortions in the pre-Roe v. Wade days; grows into a young woman considering undergoing the procedure in the Reagan years; and finally becomes a militant anti-abortion activist today.
So far, so good. We have a thorny issue. We have rapidly changing eras and values. And we have a character who is directly affected by said thorny issue throughout said changing eras so that she can state an educated opinion on the topic. We've got all the ingredients for a searing, thought-provoking drama...But what we also have is a playwright with an agenda rather than a real story to tell, and this is what keeps the play from greatness. Much like a conservative commentator shouting about their latest cause célèbre, Reynolds' script makes the issue decidedly one-sided: Anyone not against abortion is presented as irresponsible at best and downright unfeeling at worst.
Of course, to be fair (there's that liberal word again!), the play is pitched and presented as an "anti-abortion drama," so one probably would not go into the theater expecting a fair (oops!) and balanced study of a complex issue. And, of course, not every play about abortion must be as finely nuanced as Jane Martin's Keely and Du. But by making his pro-choice characters paper-thin and all of their motives cruelly selfish, he does a great disservice to his drama and seriously undermines the very serious issue. It is hard to take a debate seriously when only one side is given any real weight, and when the other side is presented as pure villains rather than flawed human beings with possibly valid opinions.
And then there's the end of the play. No spoilers here, but the final plot twist comes out of nowhere, and makes little sense. Is Reynolds undermining the rest of the play's anti-abortion message? Is he trying to balance the scales? Is he acknowledging the complexity of the issue and admitting that there may not be one flat answer? Does he even know? And-perhaps most importantly-does he even care, or is he simply out to provoke a knee-jerk reaction?
The young cast is made of members of the Flea's resident acting company The Bats. As the multi-layered Cynthia, Booth finds a poetic elegance and fierce beauty in her character's anger and conviction. The more left-leaning characters (played at various times by Betsy Lippitt-heartbreaking in both of her roles-Andy Gershenzon, Brett Aresco, Akyiaa Wilson, Laurel Holland and Marshall York) are painted with such broad strokes that the actors playing them have much less to work with, and can't be judged harshly if their performances seem less nuanced and decidedly more two-dimensional. Director Jim Simpson doesn't flesh out the characters very much, but does some brilliant work bringing the actors right up to the audience in the tiny space. Some of the most intense scenes take place less than two feet from the first row of seats, giving the actors a chance to look right into the eyes of the people watching them. As we observe them and judge their actions, they observe us and judge right back.
John McDermott's sets range from simple efficiency in the first act to complete realism in the second-the kitchen he designs is not only the dream of every aspiring cook, but is actually functional. Zack Tinkelman's lights nicely set moods and define spaces, while Jeremy Wilson's sound design is impressively detailed (in the opening scenes, we hear all the sounds of a road trip, complete with screeching tires and thumps from invisible things in the road).
