Rating (out of four stars): ★★★
Without a doubt, Space 55’s production of “Sexual Perversity in Chicago” will make you laugh.
It’ll also make you cringe — for the right reasons.
“Sexual Perversity in Chicago” explores dating and relationship dynamics in the Windy City in the 1970s. Written in 1974 by Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright David Mamet, its humor-driven critique of the sobering realities of sexism and homophobia is as thought-provoking now as it ever was.
The play opens as a pair of office workers, Dan Shapiro, played by Cole Schlesinger, and Bernie Litko, played by Ron Foligno, discuss Litko’s latest sexual crusade with a “broad” who apparently hit on Litko at a convenience store and invited him up to her room, where she insisted Litko encase her in a World War II-era flak suit before doing the deed.
Shapiro and Litko’s indiscriminate and egregious sexism in the first scene (which is also very funny in a decidedly cringe-worthy way) is a good indicator of their dialogue for most of the play. Litko continues to be obnoxious and disgusting, but Shapiro’s perspective on women gets shaken up for a while when he meets Deborah Soloman, played by Shannon Phelps.
In its production, Space 55 took a minimalist approach to props and set design, leaving the four characters with a handful of chairs and some witty chalk drawings as backdrops. Drinking glasses, bar counters and even bedcovers were mimed. Disco lights and music rounded out a couple of scenes.
Foligno, Phelps, Schlesinger and Marcella Grassa, who played Deborah’s roommate, Joan, all did an excellent job of using these minimalist elements to their advantage. A memorably hilarious scene was when Deborah and Dan spent their first night “in bed” together — the actors sat in two chairs center stage and gave the context for a sexual experience solely through shrieks, guttural noises and facial expressions.
Impeccable direction by Duane Daniels shone through in the transitions between scenes. Rather than waste time dimming lights, moving set pieces or changing costumes, the actors kept up the play’s fast pace by transitioning to different scenes and settings simply by changing position onstage. Sometimes, one scene between two actors continued while another actor entered from the opposite side of the stage, positioning herself for the next scene. The rapid-fire transitions could easily have been confusing enough to completely ruin the production, but each one was pulled off without a hitch.
Phelps and Schlesinger were beautifully awkward as a new couple. Schlesinger’s comic timing was superb, and Grassa shone as Phelps’ fiery-witted roommate. Foligno did a great job of portraying the quintessential douchebag. In fact, there were times when I had to hold myself back from leaping onstage and punching him in the face.
Foligno’s occasional flaw, however, was a seeming inability to connect with other characters. He got lost in his own dialogue, which to some extent a character with such a large ego might be expected to do. But at times he took it a bit too far, and it was hard to see his character as someone you might realistically encounter at a bar rather than as a caricature.
Another shaky area was Schlesinger’s transition from Deborah’s doting suitor to her verbally abusive housemate. While Phelps’ portrayal of Deborah made her angry moments believable, it was unnaturally shocking to see the once-timid Schlesinger suddenly start shouting at his lover, although I suppose it’s possible that Mamet’s intention was to shock us as a means of showing the potential for unrest in seemingly healthy relationships.
The ending scene, at first glance inconsequential to the overall story arc, is perhaps the play’s most telling moment. Bernie and Dan are at the beach, alternately tossing out insults and lavish descriptions of women they see lounging on the sand.
The scene drags on so long it’s hard to watch — but perhaps that was Mamet’s intent. Because at the end of the play, Bernie and Dan are right back where they started. They haven’t learned anything at all.
It’s haunting to consider whether that scene might demonstrate a little bit of truth about how far our culture has come between 1974 and 2015 with respect to gender issues.
Sure, we’ve made leaps and bounds in women’s rights since then. But it’s impossible to deny the existence of Bernies and Dans still sitting on the beach today, looking at intelligent women in bathing suits and seeing only “whales” and “cockteasers.”
“Sexual Perversity in Chicago” runs through Dec. 18 at Space 55. Tickets are $12.
Contact the author at Faith.Anne.Miller@asu.edu. Contact the columnist at mbilker@asu.edu.
