I tend to wander around with an idea in my head, muttering to myself," says Neil LaBute when describing how he gave birth to the cynical, reprehensible characters lurking in his films In the Company of Men and Your Friends & Neighbors.
"The writing process for me is as mysterious as the next person's, I suppose. That is, I never know 'when' and 'where.' I try not to make bulleted lists or outlines. I'd rather run into a brick wall 30 pages in, than know exactly where I'm going as a writer. If the work surprises me as I write it, then there's a chance that it will surprise a viewer."
Chicago theater-goers: prepare to be "surprised." The Midwest premier of LaBute's Bash: Latterday Plays at About Face Theatre delivers a stark trio of vignettes that peel back the surface layers of everyday, "normal" people to reveal a shocking peek at mankind's capacity for evil. The three plays, presented to the audience in monologue form, include: "Medea Redux," where a young woman describes her seduction by a schoolteacher at age 13; "Iphigenia in Orem" centers on a traveling businessman who has brought a woman to his hotel room; and "A Gaggle of Saints," which features two longtime sweethearts recounting the events of an elegant New York party. All three playlets present characters that work to cultivate the audience's trust before revealing savage, jaw-dropping acts of murder.
Eric Rosen, the play's director, acknowledges the fact that Bash may seem an usual choice for one of the city's most respected gay and lesbian theaters, even though one of the vignettes involves a particularly terrifying act of homophobia.
"Since we started About Face we've been looking to redefine what we mean when we think of gay plays," says Rosen, co-artistic director of About Face Theatre. "And while only one of Bash's three stories reflects gay content, we feel the entire play examines issues of gender and power that are central to the emotional and intellectual heart of the theater."
LaBute, whose work has often contained gay characters, also appears uncomfortable with the term "gay play."
"I'm not sure that there is a definition for a 'gay play' any more than I believe in a 'chick flick' or a 'kid's movie.' I think the more we restrict work to easy categories, the more we marginalize a piece of work, and ultimately, place it in a ghetto. If I'm not engaged by a play, whether the subject is homosexuality or Stalingrad in '43 then the work has failed. I always want to challenge an audience, even make them work a little, but I must provide material that works on some basic emotional levels. If The Normal Heart doesn't work on the same fundamental level as Death of a Salesman—that is, gives an honest, dramatic voice to a set of characters in some situation—then it's a disaster. It's just taking up space. I believe there may be audiences that are yearning for specific themes in work, or drawn to a kind of writing or a particular theatre, but I'm not sure I believe that a single work should be categorized as a 'gay play' or 'straight play.'"
However audiences may want to define LaBute's play, it was nevertheless a huge success in 1999, when the buzz circling Bash hit near-deafening proportions during its run off-Broadway. Powered by a high-wattage cast that included Calista Flockhart and Paul Rudd, the play garnered rave reviews from media outlets including Time magazine ( which named it one of the Best in Theater for that year ) and The New York Times. In its review, USA Today claimed Bash "takes on an impact that even the grisliest reports of gay Wyoming student Matthew Shepard's fatal beating can't touch," a compliment that humbles the Chicago-based playwright.
"It's flattering really, to read that quote, to know you've taken just words, a bunch of words and put them in front of an actor who gives them voice and moves an audience this way and that. Nothing you do, however can match the horror of a realized act. The impact of Matthew Shepard's murder is the same ... we can make TV movies about it, I can use the framework in a play, but nothing approaches the real thing. Nothing."
When asked what format he prefers presenting those so-called "grisly" details of real life-the stage or the screen-LaBute claims that "it's all just writing to me."
"The difference between screen writing and stage writing for me is probably less existent than it is for some people. I tend to start writing and then decide what I have. Sometimes, like with Bash, I know I'm writing a play, actually setting out to see if I can hold an audience with people sitting and just talking. I love the monologue form, it's my favorite format. It's that thing that the theater will always have over film, that ability for a character to step forward, sometimes with another character right there, standing frozen in time, and address the audience or think aloud and say things that couldn't possibly be voiced in any other way."
Bash is subtitled "Latterday Plays" which refers to the traces of Mormon culture embedded in the play's original text. However, LaBute, who is Mormon, decided to remove the religious jargon from the About Face Theatre's production in an attempt to make the play more inclusive for the audience.
"I tried to use Mormonism as a contest of 'goodness,' a place from which this [ evil ] behavior would be seen as surprising and disturbing. However, I found that in production, the specific Mormon references had a tendency to distance the audience, to allow them to say, "well, this isn't about me, it's about other people..." which is absolutely wrong. Eric and I decided to make the worlds [ of these characters ] more obviously general in nature, which I think strengthens the play and will not allow the audience off the hook so easily. I want people to see the impulses that run through Bash as all too familiar, not just somebody else's problem."
Bash: Latterday Plays runs Jan. 21-March 4 at About Face Theater, 3212 N. Broadway. Call 773-549-7943.
