Theatre Review: The VORTEX’s Funny, Like an Abortion

Tonal jumble muddies messaging

Reviewed by Cat McCarrey, Fri., Sept. 27, 2024

Kat Adams (left) as Monroe and Daniela Recabarren as Jade (photo by Errich Petersen Photography)

If you’re looking for a subtle meditation on the dangerous road abortion access is traveling in the U.S., Funny, Like an Abortion is not the play for you. It’s got as much subtlety as a pie in the face (something the play definitely uses). While its timely messaging is vital, the tonal shifts in this two-hander don’t always work. It’s opening VORTEX’s 37th season, where the theme is “Precipice of Possibilities.” What a fitting tagline for Funny, Like an Abortion. The work is so close to something good. But good art can’t just baldly state facts and why they matter. It has to reach further. Playwright Rachel Bublitz tries her best, but something is missing.

Set in a not-too-distant dystopian world, Funny shows two friends – Jade (Daniela Recabarren) and Monroe (Kat Adams) at a surprise party. The surprise? Monroe is unexpectedly pregnant, and this is her at-home abortion party! The party includes around 30 gift bags stuffed with ways to self-induce abortion, which the two proceed to open and dismiss with great fanfare. The scenic design by Izzy Poehlmann captured a circus-like atmosphere, full of over-the-top whimsy and mind-blowing special effects that utterly stole the show. I’ll say no more, because those revelations are the unequivocal highlights of the night.

But like a lot of the things in this production, those elements become less powerful when explained – in either the 22-page dramaturgy pamphlet, or throughout the show itself. Again, the tone wildly swings between moments of absurdity and moments of sincere emotion. Each time either vibe edged toward a rewarding payoff, the play would grind to a halt as characters recited statistics or histories behind ancient abortion methods. The research that went into this script is impressive! It would have been even more impressive with seamless plot integration!

The actors gamely juggled the events of the story and the moral speeches (sometimes literally – because there’s plenty of awe-inspiring actual juggling in the script). The character of Monroe was full of manic motion, and Adams fit that energy. Similarly, Recabarren’s Jade was a perfect straight man. They were the abortion-rights Abbott and Costello, the skeptic and the straight-up clown. But within were moments of sincerity about their friendship, about their social and economic disparity. It’s difficult to hint at that depth only to whip back into surface-level tropes.

There is something real and raw behind these two friends exhibiting the kind of dark humor young twentysomethings might have in this situation. After all, if we don’t laugh, we cry. But the play is oddly all or nothing. It’s either all a joke or nothing is, and in those moments of seriousness, it’s an afterschool special, a health class skit. It’s the overly earnest nonprofit hired by high schools to teach about sex ed in a way that “connects with the kids.”

There’s art and there’s activism, and while those can exist hand in hand, it takes extreme skill to make both parts equally effective.

Sexual education is important. Real forces are encroaching upon the rights of women. People should examine the repercussions of the dangerous legal decrees happening throughout the nation. Imagine the possibilities if Funny trusted its own message a bit more. Would leaning into the story instead of pontificating be a better way to convey this moment of horror? Would the viewer be able to marinate in dawning comprehension of the reality in this absurd situation? Would that have worked better than fact bombing the audience into submission?

I do admire what the play was trying to do. In the current climate of conservative radicalism and intense political division, art needs to boldly speak out. But our creative statements need to be more than just holding a mirror to society. We live in it; we know this world exists. It takes something extra to make the messaging as potent as it could be.

One thing I do wholeheartedly applaud is The VORTEX’s integration with Planned Parenthood. They’ve coordinated post-show discussions on Thursdays and Sundays, talks about the concrete steps people can take to help reproductive rights. Between that and the presence of Planned Parenthood initiatives outside the theatre space, the VORTEX has made actual action as easy as possible. They’re doing their part. But there’s art and there’s activism, and while those can exist hand in hand, it takes extreme skill to make both parts equally effective. In this case, the activism is good. The art suffers.