Review: Lysistrata
Whitefire Theater, Sherman Oaks
by Daniel Holmes
About 2,400 years ago, Aristophanes wrote a play about a woman’s revolt against the warring city-states of Greece. Today, in Sherman Oaks at the Whitefire Theater, Steve Shedd has taken Aristophanes’ Lysistrata and created a bawdy musical adaptation that promotes peace with enlightenment, humor, and gusto.
Steve Shedd’s production, set in the twenty-first century, is definitely an engaging production of this popular play. Using the traditional bare stage, Shedd and his talented cast present an enjoyable adaptation. The musical numbers, composed by Robert Cairns, and with lyrics by Shedd, deftly cover a wide spectrum of styles. From hip-hop to swing to rap, the story is told in a provocative and sexually delightful way. Choreographer Susan Deming incites her non-dancing actors to perform with energy and enthusiasm.
The play concerns Lysistrata (Betty Porter) and her struggle for peace, using the only weapon at her disposal, her body. By convincing the women of every state to withhold sex from their partners, she achieves world peace. Lysistrata is introduced singing about her father, who was killed in battle, and her fear of losing her husband to the same fate. Lysistrata then calls her friends together for a meeting. Myrrhine (Wendy Philpott), a giggly, naive newlywed whose husband is also away at war, and Kalonike (Judy Walstrum), a sex-toy Cyborg programmed to accommodate the political congress, are first to arrive. Lampito, a gutsy, sexy, rock-n-roll star (Susan Deming), along with her band members, Antediluvian and Epicuran (Laurie Gunning and Hilaire Lockwood), soon join them. The ladies are made privy to Lysistrata’s plan and agree to unite in an oath of celibacy.
Soon after, the men of congress come to state their convictions. Myoencephalon, Gluteodynia, and Megalotestis (Eric Bricker, Rob Swanson, and Robert Williams) give us the nature of the male status quo in the song, “The Mighty Government.” The men dance awkwardly, as most men do, and act like the testosterone-driven animals that they are. As an added feature, all the men in the play don phalli of unspeakable shapes and sizes—a banana with grapes, a watermelon slice with mango, or a baby bottle with two pacifiers!
The women declare their demands to congress with a song in the style of the Andrews Sisters, “Things are Gonna Get Hard,” sung in wonderful harmonies by Lockwood, Gunning and Walstrum. The women now are also displaying their sexual parts in the same manner as the men—floppy disks for Kalonike, peace symbols for Lysistrata, and powdered jelly donuts for Myrrhine. This flagrant satirization of our private parts helps to break down the stigmas that sex has built up since the first loincloth. Credit for the outrageous costuming goes to Cary Lattus and Susan Deming.
As lines are drawn, the Commissioner (played enchantingly by Jayson Creek) upholds the men’s position and denigrates the women with a vaudeville number, “The Commish.” Now the first battle of the sexes takes place, a Mambo/Salsa number by the women. The men answer back with Reggae, “The Island Song,” and tell us how they must take their lonely lives into their own hands, literally!
The plot thickens with the arrival of Kinesias, Myrrhine’s hunky new husband back from his last battle (portrayed by Adam Baratta with just the right, light touch). Kinesias and his member (represented by a four-barrel Nerf rocket launcher) are absolutely bursting with desire for Myrrhine’s sweet “home port.” Myrrhine, afraid she can’t hold back her own desires, gets the women to help devise a plan to keep their sex-boycott alive. She entices Kinesias to a motel with a rousing, campy trailer for Barney’s Beautiful Brass Bed Bungalows.
The second act opens in Barney’s hotel as the women break into the room and dance around Kinesias with a music medley of ’70s TV theme songs. The rest of the play carries the same funny-antics and energy as the first act with strong performances turned in by Jeff Rago as the all-brawn half-wit warrior, Ambassador Viril, and Michael Kosik as the id-fated intellectual, Ambassador IQ.
This unmitigated splurge of music, dance, and written word, centered on our erogenous zones, gives every audience member an insight into the two strongest forces known to humanity: Passion and Power. The scenes are tight, fast-paced, and funny as the actors’ talents suck you in from the start and keep you smiling to the very end. This small production isn’t bound for Broadway, but it is what intimate theater is all about. In brief, Steve Shedd’s Lysistrata is a winner and deserves to be seen by anyone that desires peace or a better understanding of the power of love based on the bonds shared between men and women. ♦