Last weekend, The Opposite of People (TOOP) put on a production of Aristophanes’ “Lysistrata.” A play apt for the theatre group’s name, “Lysistrata” embodies a misappropriated feminist frame. The motivation for TOOP’s production is the opposite of the traditional gender roles the plot reifies. It is a painting of contradictions. The play follows Lysistrata, an Athenian woman, who seeks to end the Peloponnesian war by uniting the women of Greece through a sex strike. The chorus of old Athenian women have seized the Acropolis (and the money within it), but the chorus of old Athenian men fight against them. Lysistrata wrangles the women struggling to stick to their chastity and argues for women’s importance with the magistrate. The play ends with the resolution of the war, a peace treaty driven by the desire to ameliorate the sex situation in Sparta and Athens. The Spartan messenger and the Athenian representative argue over a titillating map of Greece shaped curiously like a pin-up model, debating in this new Athens/Sparta, who gets the legs, the breasts, and so on and so forth.
The play is hysterical and as timely as ever. TOOP’s production chose to adapt the classical world setting to the 1980s New York Ballroom scene, aiding the modern audience’s leap over the hurdle of translated ancient Greek poetry. This contemporary setting was well fit for sardonic satire, but the level of irony at play in which would have been better exemplified if the drag ballroom setting was further embraced. Let the men play women and the women play men! Gender is performance anyhow. Shouldn’t we, as queer feminists in the post-transgender Internet age, be well aware of this? Aristophanes’ own productions of “Lysistrata” would’ve had the women played by men — why should ancient Greece have more gender play than UR?
I think a more free and swinging production would’ve allowed the fullest extent of performed female objectification to occur. While this production is at the liberty of the actors’ and director’s comfort (as it should be!), much of the lost slapstick lust came off as a product of censorship which dulled the point of its jab. Even the advertising came across as censored, and, though I don’t know to which rules TOOP was bound, there is literally an X over Michelangelo’s David’s cock on the program. We should be able to see it. What is this? Florida?!?
I want more sex. “Lysistrata” is an ancient sex comedy after all. I think most can agree that the number of boners in any comedic production has a bell curve whose peak far exceeds the two we were granted in TOOP’s production. Though, the two boners given were appreciated. This is a play full of innuendos and punchlines. The cast added great adlibs that boosted the relevance and digestibility of the play while further cementing the modern setting. As a whole, I wish the production had leaned into absurdity more.
Take the final scene; the text of the play suggests that the map the Spartans and Athenians bicker over, the physical manifestation of Reconciliation, would’ve been played by an actor. I assume TOOP knew this and chose to go with the poster regardless — perhaps for ideological reasons or for the comfort of the cast.
However, I think this takes away from the thematic significance of the ending. The men are unable to think of anything but the women around them who they objectify; that’s why the strike works: there’s no way they can continue with their lives without bending to the will of the real living women around them. In a way, TOOP’s decision is less feminist — the would-be-actor is literally replaced by an object. Then again, maybe that’s what Lysistrata and Co. are taking advantage of. And the poster makes the geographic references more clear while calling attention to more modern forms of female sexual exploitation (i.e. pornography). So, it’s difficult to come to a firm conclusion on the impact of the choice. Heck, maybe that was on purpose too.
There are several places in the play where the absurdity landed dead on. The Kinesias-Myrrhine episode was fantastic: silly, goofy, a little gross. In this episode, Kineasias tries to lie with his wife, Myrrhine who holds fast to the sex strike. Kinesias (sophomore Madeleine Lamb) dragged himself facedown across the stage after hurling a baby. Myrrhine (RIT Visiting Student Gabrielle Koehler) brought out a yoga mat, mattress, pillow, and more before leaving her husband high and dry. That was definitely my favorite part of the show, and the part that had all the qualities the rest of the show was maybe lacking. That said, the show was still fun to watch and the night had a great atmosphere. The audience also got to vote for peace, almost meeting the room’s quorum — I was a big fan of that. The audience participation did leagues in establishing the ballroom setting and making for a joyous eve. All of the characters had lots of fun asides during the show, too, which made this millenia-old story feel fresh and playful.
One final gripe, though one that didn’t necessarily prevent me from enjoying the play, is that the program heralds the play as “ahead-of-its-time” and explicitly calls it feminist. The accuracy of these descriptors could probably be someone’s Master’s thesis with how weighty they are, and I wish that gray space had been acknowledged. “Feminist” is very much one interpretation of the play. Another is that Aristophanes wrote the play to make fun of bawdy women (and, yes, men too) while making a case for peace. One might argue it’s an anti-war play, not a pro-women play. Broadly, I support reappropriating something Classical and making it feminist, but to deny its very, very anti-feminist origins feels oddly deceptive.
Overall, I was delighted that TOOP chose to do “Lysistrata” and so happy to have spent my Friday night in Drama House watching their production. It was filled with fantastic performances, great costumes, ever-opportune commentary, and most importantly, joy. Catch any production of “Lysistrata”if you have an opportunity and most definitely make sure to check out The Opposite Of People’s next show, Lauren Gunderson’s “Exit, Pursued by a Bear” in the spring.
