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Critics May Give 'The Gene Pool' Accolades, But What Are They Saluting?
By Mari Wadsworth
BORDERLANDS excels at taking chances, and The Gene Pool,
written by acclaimed Washington, D.C., playwright Christi Stewart-Brown,
is no exceptis, Claire (Carlisle Ellis) and Mira (Suzi List),
the moms of 18-year-old Peter (charmingly played by newcomer Michael
Yarema). Peter is the product of artificial insemination, and
the search for his "father" (one oft-repeated tenet
of the work is that active sperm does not a parent make) provides
one counterpoint to what is otherwise a rather silly comedy.
And we do mean silly.
One can't be sure of the playwright's intention. To skewer the
notion of the perfect family? To show how mainstream, even to
the point of retro, the '90s gay couple has become? (One of Mira's
quippy lines is that their last names were White and Black, so
they compromised on the name Gray.) Clearly, Brown has fun with
the modern family dynamic.
Moreover, she places her strong, female leads in the unenviable
roles of the stereotypical nuclear family, a la late '50s/early
'60s: Claire is the patriarchal, preoccupied provider, and Mira
is the doting, effervescent housewife. Peter, of course, is the
perfect teen: just defiant enough to be normal; and he's still
a virgin on his 18th birthday. His first girlfriend Paige (in
a nearly flawless supporting role by Danielle Coleman), has agreed
to "help him out" on this last count. Her probing questions
into Peter's family life are also the catalyst for the story's
real climax--finding Harold (Dwayne Palmer), the anonymous sperm
donor.
The Gene Pool has quite a few funny lines, and some stellar
moments of naturalistic acting. Among them are when Claire pats
her distraught son on the shoulder after he fails to get an erection
on the "big night," saying, "Sometimes that happens
and it's perfectly normal, Peter; nothing to worry about,"
meanwhile shrugging wide-eyed at Mira behind his back; and the
self-satisfied glow of the happy couple, looking newly confident
and relaxed on the couch, until peppy Mira observes the difference
and puts one and one together: "You did it!" she calls
from the sidelines, "You're not a virgin anymore!" as
the two teens, suddenly teens again, dissolve in mortified groans
and protests. List also makes the most of a solo moment on stage,
the very image of resigned melancholy in her empty house.
As always, Borderlands puts a lot of sweat equity into its sets,
sound and lighting, eliciting a professional package that's solid
if not extravagant. The constructed living room here, complete
with operative front door, dimmed lights, and an off-stage bedroom
and kitchen, looks ready for a Realtor.
But there are also some problems: List and Ellis, both fine actresses,
at times seem outright miscast here. Ellis' transition from dramatic
to comedic is rough: She seems glowering rather than concerned;
and her role cries out for more physical comedy to counterbalance
her serious delivery. But if List and Ellis turn out performances
that are forced at times, it's because that's exactly what their
characters are: forced into a role that just doesn't fit.
Behind the laugh-track lines (a nod to the family TV sitcom)
are larger questions: Why is it more funny, or at all funny, to
see a gay couple act like a straight couple? And furthermore,
why is it that when a woman chooses to act like a man, invariably
she acts like a bad man? (Claire is that thankfully bygone
archetype of maleness: a self-absorbed, cheating spouse whose
main identity is tied to her occupation.)
If not the gender equivalent of blackface, it still seems like
a cheap laugh. In his book The Rise and Fall of Gay Culture,
essayist Daniel Harris eloquently argues that assimilation and
a more mainstream media profile have compromised "the gayest
aspects of being gay--camp, wit, style, estheticism, creativity
and the art of brilliant conversation." It's something to
consider.
Now, this play reportedly premiered in D.C. to rave reviews;
and The Washington Post called it a "bright domestic
comedy." It's traveled to New York City and Minneapolis,
as well as Tucson. A screenplay is in development. Maybe it's
a great play. Or maybe critics applaud knee-slappers like The
Gene Pool not because they find them compelling, but because
they're entirely non-threatening.
The Gene Pool is more than two women pretending to be
lesbian moms for our amusement: It's a coming-of-age comedy, a
light-hearted social satire, and a philosophical stance on what
makes a family--commitment and good old-fashioned "being
there." It's certainly worth seeing, if not for the yuks
than for its underlying message.
For in the final analysis, the play succeeds even as it falls
short, because it raises an important call to the arts community
at large. Surely there is much more to be examined, much more
that is uplifting and uproarious about gay life, than this farcical
glimpse at the rainbow family next door.
The Gene Pool, a Borderlands Theatre production,
continues through January 31 at the PCC Black Box Theatre,
2202 W. Anklam Road. Show times are 8 p.m. Wednesday through Saturday.
Tickets range from $7 to $15. Call 882-7406 for reservations
and information.
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