That Pretty Pretty; or, The Rape Play

It's been nearly twenty-four hours since I saw Sheila Callaghan's play, That Pretty Pretty; or, The Rape Play, produced by Rattlestick Playwright's Theater, and I'm still not fully sure what I thought of it. It certainly wasn't boring, that's for sure, but I'm not sure it was very good, either. Though it is not Callaghan's first play, it has a kind of collegiate preciousness that overwhelms any point the playwright was trying to make, if indeed there was one.

The play defies synopsis, but here's what I can tell you: two ex-strippers, possibly sisters, have gone on a murder spree, traveling across the country to kill pro-lifers because another sister was killed when an abortion clinic was bombed. They chronicle all this on their blog. Later, a screenwriter incorporates their story into his screenplay. All the while Jane Fonda, from her exercise-video phase, pops in. In between, there is a surrealistic dinner party, which ends in a Jell-O wrestling match between the two sisters.

Much of this plays like early Sam Shepard filtered through the absurdism of Christopher Durang. I suspect that Callaghan is interested in exploring sexism, gender roles (a male character, at one point, puts on a dress and makeup), misogyny (especially violence against women), abortion rights, and the semiotics of Fonda, who of course has represented many things over her long career. What exactly she thinks I'm still confused about, because she employs a shotgun method of theater--shooting both barrels full of pellets, with all sorts of provocative language and visuals, but without any of it adding up to anything meaningful.

The play lasts a little over an hour-and-a-half with no intermission, but it's only in the last third that things settle down and start to make sense. It's then that the screenwriter, played by Greg Keller, with his vulgar friend Rodney (Joseph Gomez) explain what we've seen before, as he is writing a screenplay about the fiercely pro-choice strippers, while Jane Fonda's exercise video plays in the background. I think that this section could have played as a very good one-act, and the hour or so that came before was largely unnecessary. Keller explains his screenplay and then we see some of the film (acted out live, but with the effective lighting of Matt Frey we get that we're supposed to watching a film) and then, in a nice bit of acting, Keller takes the stage as if he were at one of those Q&As in front of film students. We don't hear the questions, but we hear Keller's pretentious answers.

Callaghan has a somewhat juvenile interest in shocking her audience. Two characters urinate on stage, there are a variety of murders, with weapons such as machetes and sledgehammers, Mametesque foul language, and beyond that, the word rape is used casually, perhaps Callaghan's strongest point (but I don't think she's one of those "sex is rape" feminists). At other times characters roll around on the floor for no particular interest, and food is smeared on one actress's face, without comment. There was many an occurrence I felt embarrassed for the cast, but they certainly didn't show it, performing with a "let's put on a show" zeal.

In addition to Keller, I liked Lisa Joyce, as one of the murderous strippers. She has the expressive features of a silent-film star, and was something of a scene-stealer. Since she's the one who: A) pees on a bed, B) gets food smeared on her face, and C) is hacked with a machete, I think she deserves special commendation.