Luv Doc Recommends: The Vagina Monologues
Topfer Theatre at Zach, Saturday, May 7, 2005
Be honest with yourself: Mother's Day weekend is a pretty abysmal time to be trying to get your mack on, gay or straight – even if you’re working some sort of weird lactation fetish. Mother's Day isn’t about sex, it’s about giving props to those who have paid the consequences thereof. There’s no way around it, everybody has a mother. Yours may be living or dead, overbearing or absentee, hot or not, but unless you happen to be a jellyfish with the uncanny ability to read five-point type, you probably made the luge ride down the meat canal just like everyone else. Hell, even Jesus had a mother, and he was “begotten, not made,” which basically means that Mother Mary had to deal with all the ugly and painful consequences of sex … but without actually getting laid. Bummer to be sure, but you can bet that the Virgin Mary got mommy perks far beyond the obligatory hand imprint clay mold or Popsicle-stick Polaroid picture frame. Plus, if there’s any divine justice, she and Joe got it on like rabbits after the Lord and Savior was off the tit. After all, a woman has needs. For the rest of motherdom, however, a poorly fabricated construction-paper card scrawled with unintelligible Crayola will have to suffice at some time or another as thanks for hours of excruciating labor, stretch marks, perineal tearing, and a lifetime of worry. Suffice it to say that only a few people in the history of mankind – maybe Jesus, Elvis, Bill Gates, and Liberace – have ever come close to providing sufficient payback to moms. Really, it’s an impossible dream. The best you can hope for is to someday endure the agony and spectacle of motherhood yourself, if only as a form of karmic penance for not showing proper respect and sympathy to she from whose loins you issued. Some call it a miracle, but those who have witnessed birth firsthand know that it’s really more of a cross between the prom scene in Carrie and the prison break at the beginning of Raising Arizona. More than anything, it’s a fascinating introduction to Biomechanics, specifically in relation to the superelasticity of the vagina. In comparison, the penis is just a badly shaped water balloon, a one-trick pony. It’s no wonder then that over the centuries the vagina - veritable font of life that it is - has been the subject of much intrigue and mystery, but it’s only recently that this dark nether region of womanhood has been explored extensively - brought to light, if you will. No more so than in the smash theatrical sensation The Vagina Monologues, an oratory paean to punani written by Eve Ensler, who interviewed more than 200 women about their downstairs neighbors for the piece. This Sunday Zach Scott Theatre continues its ongoing production of VM, directed by Ann Ciccolella and featuring a talented cast of local actors: Franchelle S. Dorn, Janelle Buchanan, and Lauren Lane, who starred as the blond hottie in The Nanny with Fran Drescher. What better way to celebrate MD than by watching VM at Zach Scott Theatre?