Julia Beffon
Standing in front of me in the Wits Theatre box office queue were a middle- aged couple. The woman stepped up to the window and asked for two tickets. ”For which show?” asked the young man behind the glass.
”There’s more than one?”
”Yes, madam.”
”Er, that one,” she said, slightly flustered, pointing at a poster.
”The Vagina Monologues?” the young man asked – quite loudly, and with no small amount of relish.
”Yes,” she whispered, and pushed her credit card across to him.
That scene encapsulated some of what playwright Eve Ensler tries to convey – the difficulty most women have in saying the word ”vagina”, never mind discussing the topic. It’s a taboo subject, seldom seriously discussed except at medical conventions. On stage it’s either the target for smutty comedians or angry feminists.
The Vagina Monologues takes a different tack. Lara Bye opens this one-woman show by repeating vagina dozens of times – to draw the sting and get the audience accustomed to the word. She catalogues many names – some crass, some bizarre – given to the genitals. (By the time she gets to the first monologue, no one can be in any doubt as to what the show is about. So it seems rather strange for some people to wait until 10 minutes before the end to walk out. Maybe they were hoping for some nudity).
This prologue sets the scene for what is to follow. It’s all about how women relate to themselves and their bodies – and it’s hilarious. The Vagina Monologues is not a diatribe against men, nor is it an attempt to sanctify part of the female anatomy. It’s an honest, warm and mostly very funny take on women.
With a minimum of props – a mat, sunglasses, a cardigan, a scarf – Bye transforms herself into each character delivering a monologue. She engages the audience from the beginning and carries them through each metamorphosis, from the sassy teenager seduced by a lesbian to the halting tale of a Bosnian woman raped by soldiers. She expresses cynicism, vulnerability or hurt in some of the monologues, exhiliration in others, while ensuring that the overall tone of her performance is in keeping with the celebratory and liberating nature of the play.
Nicole Levin’s direction has a great deal to do with maintaining this fine balance. It would have been easy to allow justified outrage and anger to dominate in the rape monologue, for example, but the lower key allows the scene to become more poignant and compelling.
After a successful run at the Grahamstown Festival, the Hearts and Eyes Theatre Collective has brought The Vagina Monologues to Johannesburg as part of a South African tour. The play originates in the United States, so several of the monologues have an American feel – such as the old lady from the Bronx who refers to her vagina as ”down there” – but have universal appeal.
Co-incidentally, I sat next to the middle-aged couple I’d encountered at the box office. They enjoyed it hugely. So did I.
The Vagina Monologues is on at the Wits Ampitheatre until April 1