Girls in Trouble stars Betsy Lippitt and Andy Gershenzon
photo by Carol Rosegg

The most exciting evening you can have in TriBeCa for $24 (includes the price of your beer) is surely to be found downstairs at The Flea Theatre through April 11^th. An intimate and unpretentious space, which fills up quickly, leaves the audience just about two feet from the front of the stage, a distance that shrinks as the play’s rich dialogue draws you in, and the action bravely approaches the edge of the performance space, and political theater conventions.

Jonathan Reynold’s dialogue is fresh and buoyant. In Act I the young actors easily blend the jargon of the 1960’s with contemporary phrasing. Thanks to this dexterity of the resident Bats, we do not feel the scene is dated, or cliché. We immediately recognize the two boys driving in the first scene. Echoing the archetypes we remember from our very first Sex Ed video, the handsome Hutch, played by Andy Gershenzon explains to his captivated, but less fortunate friend, acted by Brett Aresco, that when attempting second base with a girl, he ought to “treat [her breast] like a toe.” As they speed along the highway, with a trail of roadkill, we are transported to the Kennedy years: a hunky young president, and the awakening sexuality of the country that caused seismic rumblings beneath the accepted norms of gender, and sexual relationships.

Reynolds expertly transcends place and time through a pattern of sounds. We move from the car hitting a dog with an unsettling “thump,” to the interior of young Cyndy’s bedroom as she punishes the kitten that bit her with a resonant snap of its neck. The blood-curdling scream of Betsy Lippit as Barb after her abortion in 1960, joins the shriek of self-affirmation from Eboni Booth playing Sunny as she begins her poem at the top of Act II in the Regan era, and foreshadows the cry of anguish from Laurel Holland’s Amanda at the end of the play in the present day.

These three actors shine, each one fearlessly representing three perspectives of the abortion dispute with grace, maturity, and depth of character. Lippit’s wilted physicality, and sunken facial features communicated Barb’s helpless naiveté as Hutch manipulates her. Booth shines as Cyndy/Sunny/Cynthia, giving a vibrant performance that connected the three acts that follow her story.

It is a rare opportunity to see spoken word performed so full of beauty, and joy of expression in the theater. Intricate timing, and rhythm punctuated the text and lifted the poetry. Similarly, Holland’s thoughtful portrayal of Amanda was remarkably sharp, nimble and contrasts Booth brilliantly.

Director Jim Simpson, Artistic Director of the Flea Theatre, expertly shapes the scenes and weaves in bits of theater magic for the modern age, and shoestring budget, such as the real cook-top stove with fragrant simmering wok that permeates whatever was left of a fourth wall. Similarly, the design elements of this production, though sparse, were effective. The light changes during Cynthia and Amanda’s debate, as they turn to address the audience, help to punctuate what could otherwise have been a tennis match of polemical dialogue. Simpson finds gold in this adventurous young cast, and matches each actor with a part seemingly written for them.

Reynolds introduces memorable characters that both anchor the debate in familiar territory, and rip it wide open with a host of present day variables. What happens when the “Virtuous Vegan,” champion of left-wing media wants to have an abortion? What if the daughter of an abortionist takes on the crusade to save unborn babies? The playwright quips, “a liberal is a conservative who’s had an orgasm, and a conservative is nothing more than a liberal who’s been mugged.” These two characters explode everything we thought we were certain of, and Amanda’s hapless husband, Robert, played by Marshall York, begins to mirror public opinion as he waffles back and forth in their midst. When Robert references God, Amanda accuses, “you’re an atheist!” to which he replies, “not about everything!” confirming the quixotic nature of relative truth and righteousness in the abortion issue.

Reynold’s carefully avoids taking a side, however he does drive home the point that the sex act, is an act of creation, and that justifying the death of a fetus is exactly as difficult as justifying the need for sex. Hutch calls it “the reason for fucking living,” Sunny tells her Danny “this is a cold world, and you heat me right up.” When Cynthia reminds Amanda that her baby has been alive since the moment of conception, 15 days after intercourse, Amanda retorts, “It wasn't a conception. It was a misconception. And let’s keep this theoretical if you don’t mind.” Reynolds rejects that idea, reviving the personal side of the debate by placing it right back in the kitchen, literally bringing the issue home.

Simpson brings the play full circle with the last sound the audience hears of a woman breathing heavily back to Act I when Hutch instructs Teddy to make sure “she’s breathing hard,” before making advances. He expertly connects each of Reynold’s open-ended questions and clues, and builds dramatic tension throughout the piece that culminates in an unexpected twist that is nothing short of a coup de theatre.

“Girls in Trouble” continues through April 11 at the Flea Theater, 41 White Street, near Church Street, TriBeCa; (212) 352-3101, theflea.org.