(A Response)

by Addison DeWitt~

Alrighty then. Fresh coffee brewed. Check. Tulips cut back. Check. Soothing music on the Victrola. Hold on… check.

I am now prepared to attempt a reasoned response to the intriguing and perplexing feedback, debates and twaddle my previous essay addressing the debatable benefits and pitfalls of so-called “gender-blind” casting - “Stop Dicking Around or An End to Theatrical Pussyfooting” – has spawned.

I truly do appreciate all the considered observations. I enjoy nothing more than questioning my own limited perspective via alternative viewpoints. And, truth be told, I have found at times that upon further analysis what I had previously sussed as my derrière ended up being nothing more than a hapless hole in hallowed ground. Not often, though. Which is probably why I enjoy the process.

With that in mind, consider Greg.

Greg asks: “Where does your POV leave plays that explicitly call for gender-bending casting…”, going on to cite Caryl Churchill’s “Cloud 9″ and Doug Wright’s “I Am My Own Wife“. A great question, Greg, and very much to the theatrical point.

The personal concerns which motivated me to write the essay reside within a practitioner’s twisting, bending and/or altering theatrical text and/or character so as to conform to any current sociopolitical pressures, not with the examination of gender roles in society as they pertain to the human condition. When playwrights set out to examine the relevance/irrelevance of gender as theatrical device (which includes assigning or not assigning gender to character) and it’s clear that this was the intent, then that piece must be weighed on a separate scale. My objection is not with pushing the gender line. My criticism comes with that line being used to cross out original text, character and/or writer intent. Different beasts entirely.

Greg also suggests that since the Theatre is an art form, and one in which its denizens are prone to experiment, were I to poll a larger group of directors I might come up with different conclusions. Fair enough. An interesting suggestion. One I would take into greater account had I not been exposed to thousands of plays over the years, developing a comparatively keen eye sensitive to theatrical logic, execution, intent, reasoning and, more to the point, motivation. My experience has been that when I see a role played by an actor of the character’s opposite gender, more often than not, the motivational factor strikes me as coming from an unacknowledged political correctness. In other words, an unconscious drive to be “fair”. (Or, even more incisively, a need to feel they are being seen as being “fair”.) I propose that this is unhealthy for the art form.

Another point Greg makes is that while I may not care for a particular theatrical choice, others might. Does this mean that audience acceptance is enough to render any theatrical endeavor valid artistically? It is not. I stand firm in the belief that if an art form allows itself to be defined by its admirers then its fate is sealed and its death warrant all but signed. It is the practicioners who must define the art. Simply because someone else likes something does not, ever, make it valid artistically. It is our responsibility to constantly monitor our beloved art form’s health and recognize the differences between symptom and disease. Should we allow the patients to decide what is healthy for themselves? I don’t think so. They don’t know. And besides, it isn’t their job. I believe that, not unlike a hungry toddler, they’ll fill up on sweets and nothing else. Popularity is not the only barometer with which we must measure our aesthetic intake. It will rot the teeth.

And I agree, of course, that “other theatre producers have the right to examine gender roles in the free market“. I never said they didn’t. But, should they choose to exercise that right, I will exercise mine of calling them out and questioning their reasoning. Living and dying by the sword and all that.

I must take exception, however, to your example of Stoppard’s “Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead’ being either “experimental” or worthy of consideration for gender-crossed casting. I find nothing particularly experimental about the script. Brilliant, yes. Clever, undoubtedly. Inspired, no question. But experimental? Not so much. Then there’s the question of gender specificity. I’ve always sensed a certain homoeroticism between these characters in both “Hamlet” and Stoppard’s piece, (as only one example of the male-to-male dynamic potential, please note. There are others.), and, aside from the fact that they are also students together, rendering the cross casting questionable in terms of period, I would doubt that the fruit borne would be as good as you hope. I would enjoy seeing such a production with you, though. Your points make for an interesting roundelay.

As far as your personal experience of altering your script to accommodate the actors made available to you for various productions goes, I think that that is what the theatre is and always should be. While this may sound like a contradiction, it is, actually, the opposite. You, the writer, were in the picture. You even altered a scene to reflect the gender choices made available to you which, by your own description “enlivened” the piece. Ditto Simon. Good for you. Good for the actor. Good for Simon. Good for the theatre. Now. Imagine if you were dead. In whose hands would you, the playwright, trust your text?

One last moment with Greg’s well-considered thoughts before we move on. He writes: “Theatre is frequently political, and I suspect Brecht, Tony Kushner, Maria Irene Fornes, and Suzan Lori-Parks, among others, would chafe upon being told that it isn’t theatre’s job to change things.” Thank you for using the word chafe. It’s underused. Having gone over my original article, I find no place where I suggest that it isn’t theatre’s “job to change things“. Neither do I imply it. In fact, my feelings are the direct opposite. (Please feel free to point it out to me if I missed something and I’ll take it from there.) Theatre must change things. All art must change things. That is what makes art controversial and politically dangerous. But, keeping in mind that change should not always be assumed to be a “good” thing, change is also not an art form’s only job and it should never be its first priority. If our first priority as artists in the theatre is attempting to effect sociopolitical change (for “good” or “ill”) then the resulting work will be didactic at best, preachy at least. All the geniuses you reference above were or are concerned first with the human condition and its place in the world, whatever the current politics of their day. Then they represent it on a stage. Then comes the change. But artistic expression begins with and must address specifically the human experience first. Not any need or call for “change”. Then and only then can the work be brought to life by ink on paper. This includes a writer’s gender choices for character. We should not water down the ink of that intention. Or nothing will ever change.

In a second post, Greg includes a link to a 2003 review of the undeniably brilliant Janet McTeer’s rendering of Petruchio in the Globe’s all-female production of “The Taming of the Shrew” under the direction of Phyllida Lloyd. A theatre critic for The Daily Telegraph since 1991, Charles Spencer is described on Wikipedia as “best remembered for his description of Nicole Kidman’s nude scene in ‘The Blue Room’ as ‘pure theatrical Viagra’.” Huh.

Mr. Spencer opens his review with the statement that “The Taming of the Shrew” is “an inspired choice of play for a girls-on-top production“. Please note: that is not the name of the production company. It is his turn of phrase for an all-female production. So, early on in my reading I am questioning this particular critic’s perspective as it might pertain to women in general.

See for yourself: http://tinyurl.com/23umvow.

While I see his point that, like “Merchant of Venice“, “Shrew” is considered potentially offensive to some when viewed with modern eyes, (and what isn’t anymore?) I do not see how turning all the male characters in the play into buffoons illuminates the text in any enlightened way. It merely makes it palatable to overly sensitive modern audiences who have no seeming grasp of history or period. He says that the production “…highlights the absurdities of the male of the species without any need of overt editorializing“. I would ask you all to read again my thoughts on that all-male production of “The Women” and see if you can’t spot the blatant double-standard being applied to gender-blind casting. Apparently it’s socially acceptable and theatrically valid to shine a spotlight on the foolishness of an entire subspecies if the opposing gender is doing it. Or is it?

In describing Ms. McTeer’s Petruchio, Mr. Spender notes that “one of the first actions is to unbutton her codpiece and take a leak against one of the Globe’s ornate pillars.” Leaving aside for a moment the obvious pissing-on-the-theatre imagery, which is, admittedly, a little too spot on for my tastes, why is this piece of action the one that stood out to him the most? Perhaps because of it’s blatant directorial planting of a tongue in the cheek. The director, wisely, was setting the ground rules early. We know that this actor is a woman, we know that we’re having a lot of fun with the text, so, what is the most “man-like” action a female actor can execute to let the audience in on the secret? What the director is saying here is “you’re safe in our world“. So, no matter how brutally Petruchio treats Kate eventually, it will be met with an easing of modern day social awareness of spousal abuse. And won’t this be fun? If a little pandering. Further emphasizing this point is a passage just after: “Petruchio sits Kate on his lap as if she were a ventriloquist’s dummy, then effortlessly turns her upside down before casually dropping her on the floor, where she lies in a heap with her dress over her head.“. Yep. Sounds like Shrew. But, how can it be Shrew if I’m laughing so hard? Would I be laughing if Petruchio were being played by Kevin Kline right now? This is fun! And incredibly unfair. Kate is still suffering, yes? Is woman on woman “abuse” somehow more socially acceptable? That’s what I get from this. Though, I’m sure, it was not the critic’s or the director’s intention. Which makes it more dangerous.

In Mr. Spencer’s final paragraph he waxes euphorically over the other women playing male roles (tipping his hand at potential fetish at one point) but his statement that two female actors “offer cherishable impersonations of fussy old men” really brings it home for me. “Impersonations”. Exactly my point.

I would imagine that Greg was referring the link to bolster up his the theory that if people like it (or give it a good review) it must be theatrically worthy. As stated earlier, I don’t agree with that. If I don’t miss my guess, I think that, ultimately, it was simply the Globe applying stunt casting to a problematic text in an attempt to sugar-coat Shakespeare for their subscription base. Believe what you like, but there’s nothing blind about that.

Moving on to other responses. I was giddily notified by my editor that my essay had been posted at the online theatre site Bitter Lemons ( http://bitter-lemons.com/2010/05/enough-with-the-gender-blind/ ). I remember when Bitter Lemons got started and have always considered it a wonderful service. More information is always better as far as I’m concerned. So when they felt compelled to huzzah my scribblings to their fanbase I was pleased.

After a few days I was notified that a new posting was up at Bitter Lemons and there was some…er… controversy. Well, I love a yummy treat as much as the next person so I hurried on by to catch the what what. Where previously my “excellent” article had been “required reading” featuring “good stuff” and even included a “snap” and a “tasty tidbit“, I was now being assessed as lacking “vaginal or testicular fortitude” for choosing to write under the previously-explained nom de plume “Addison DeWitt”. Sigh. So, even though my thoughts below are not in direct response to the original essay’s subject matter of gender-blind casting, I feel it’s appropriate to address this issue here since Bitter Lemons is a well respected pillar of our local theatre community and is doing great work for the betterment of same.

While I find it incredibly unfortunate that the Bitter Lemons folk feel compelled to now view my writings as dismissable due to the fact that they don’t know my “true” identity (although, truth be told, my writing is truer to who I am than any name or face recognition ever could be), I find it disturbing that source is a requirement for establishing validity/invalidity. A chilling suggestion which strikes me as somewhat Right-wingish and completely proves my argument for continuing with a nom de plume. If someone won’t read me because they don’t know who I am, is it a far-fetched concept to grasp that others who do know me will either not read me at all or read me without filtering my opinions? Baggage is baggage. Which is precisely the point. And this is why I will continue labouring under the name of the most brilliant, fictional Theatrician ever to grace the screen. (For those of you still unfamiliar with my namesake, I refer you to the 1950 Bette Davis film “All About Eve“. Readily available on Netflix, I’m told.) In this current incarnation, however, Addison DeWitt is a concept, not a person. It does not and, honestly, should not matter who s/he actually is. It is the writing that counts.

What Bitter Lemons states is true that I was “called out about (sic) by not one, but two of the commenters to come out from behind his ‘cowardly’ shelter-of-a-name“. It would be remiss of me not to point out as well that after responding to their comments (thank you for including those responses, by the way) neither writer felt compelled to counter-point. So they were either convinced by my argument, incapable of rebutting or too lazy to care. And, since Bitter Lemons brought up “the safety via Virtual Anonymity” of the web and, apparently, thinks I’m somehow hiding behind it, I ask again for all readers to understand that fear is not the motivating factor here. Your continued reading and formulation of your own opinions are. Influence is a double-edged sword. Anyone who has it understands that. What one does with it is the ultimate question.

One last thing on this topic and then it’s off to bumpier fields. I understand what Bitter Lemons is saying when they pose that one’s “name” and “word” are all one has. And I agree. But, I also hold that the responsible utilization of that “name” and that “word” is far more important than their mere existence. That is what I’m attempting here. It’s unfortunate that my words aren’t enough to explain this to one of the more “intelligent, decent” and “inquisitive” groups of theatre people in our local community, but, as the kids say these days, “it is what it is”. Oh, and to answer one question for the record, what I have to “hide” is other people’s baggage surrounding my name. And that is all.

My only hope now is that the other writers and editors at Los Angeles Theatre Review will not be handicapped in any way by Bitter Lemons’ dismissal of my column. They truly are some of the brightest minds currently writing for the local theatre scene and our local readers should not be deprived of thoughtful insights due to either my choices or anybody else’s. So, thank you for that.

Lastly, a public note to “Ted”:

I don’t write reviews. If you had a whip of sense you’d realize that. And, since your diatribe deals with critics and not gender-crossed casting, I ask that you either stick to the subject matter at hand or piss off.

Preferably not on a theatrical pillar.