It’s important to keep abreast of topics such as body image, feminism, sexism and objectification, and no play makes it more titillating than “The Boob Show.”
Sally Jo Bannow’s brainchild is a humorous romp through a fantasy land known as “Boobtropolis,” where a woman battling breast cancer winds up after fixating on the changes her body is going through.
When she first visits the bizarre boob wonderland, a cheerful song plays: “Boobtropolis! Boobs on the brain.” Like a commercial jingle, it’s catchy and cute at first, but hearing it over and over again makes it exhausting.
“The Boob Show” pushes up fantastic assets, like a clever scenic design filled with subtle breast imagery by Douglas Clarke and hilarious video interludes. There’s one particular video that seems to cracks the audience up: a montage of men blessed in the upper torso region flash across the screen to a soft, celebratory melody called, “Man Tits.”
Body positivity is a huge theme in this play, and Bannow takes time to sing about and celebrate every type of body. She also addresses objectification: in one of her songs, she plays a huge-breasted seductress who sings about how her body’s blessings can make men stupid. Halfway through, a small puppet is thrown on stage, and she attaches its hands to her chest. From there on, the puppet clings to her breasts, and she throws it around by the end of the song.
This hilarious image is later used again, when she plays a Russian mother who has many hungry mouths and all the milk in the world to feed them with. One of her monkeys hangs from her chest as she sings about the wonder of breast milk. The visual gag is little less funny the second time, but remains amusing enough to elicit loud laughter.
Bannow’s high energy and multifaceted acting skills captivate the audience and seriously impress. Throughout the play, she weaves together the narratives of several characters whose obsession with boobs led them to Boobtropolis.
From a pleasantly perverted old college professor to a Russian mother of stuffed monkeys with faucets for her breast milk, Bannow’s accents and body language brings her formidable cast of characters to life.
Occasionally, those characters drown out Bannow’s own story of overcoming body issues, which gets constantly sidetracked by zany characters. It can get difficult to keep track of which character we’re seeing, because they are all portrayed by her. The meat of the story is unsupported with silly hijinks of random characters.
At one point in the second act, we encounter a doctor who confesses a secret love of wearing fake breasts. The doctor gives no meaning to the story, other than to provide a funny song about a man who inexplicably needs to wear breasts to feel good.
The technical elements of this scene are flawless: the texts that appear on screen are perfectly timed to match Bannow’s song. Maybe if his motivation was explained, it would be more enjoyable. Ultimately, it comes across as a self-indulgent, empty scene with no real purpose.
The show is bountiful in its many colorful ideas, but these metaphorical breasts need a better-fitting bra.
Despite the story’s detours into zaniness, there are truly sweet and heartwarming moments. In the first act, a mother sings about the deep and beautiful connection she feels with her baby when she breastfeeds him. Bannow’s voice is bold and operatic, but she showcases a soft and restrained lullaby as she sings from the mother’s perspective. The song is as sweet as the mother, whose tender love for her baby is palpable through Bannow’s emotional performance.
Although Bannow depicts multiple characters with admirable fluidity, perhaps the most interesting characters are the audience members. Bannow brings in people from the audience to join her interactive breast-growing camp, and at one point there’s a catapult that launches small, plush breasts into the stands, one of which had a ticket for a free drink during intermission. Throughout the play, Bannow promises the spectators that she will help them escape Boobtropolis with her (they’re even called out for being stuck with her because they, too, have “boobs on the brain.”)
Charming and well-crafted, “The Boob Show” is a hilarious play that had the audience laughing from start to finish. Its a perky performance that nips at your heartstrings with tender moments, but milks its jokes and sometimes sags.
Although it’s much more funny than it is serious, “The Boob Show” is thought-provoking through its humorous approach towards body image issues and other pervasive problems today.
At the end, Bannow is saved through the encouragement of the women who came before her. We’re left with a passionate slam poem on loving yourself, which Bannow’s character learned to at the end of her adventure.
Like two nipples in the cold, I was alert and fully aware of what was before me. I left feeling empowered and uplifted, with a swell feeling in my chest.
Contact the columnist at sosulli2@asu.edu.
