Playwright: Mallery Avidon. At: Pavement Group at St. Peter's Episcopal Church, 621 W. Belmont. Info: 312-733-9283; $15. Runs through: June 27
A woman's active sexual history is the subject matter of Mallery Avidon's very artsy-titled fracture/mechanics, now having its world premiere courtesy of Pavement Group.
Avidon provides a program note saying "fracture mechanics is the study of how things break."
The "fracture" of the play's title certainly describes its fractured structure, which is a series of abrupt scenes focusing on an unnamed woman ( Cyd Blakewell ) and her many male companions in the moments before they have sex ( very likely the "mechanics" of the title's equation ) .
Avidon leaves the audience guessing or making assumptions of the time between each of the woman's pairings, which play out on a rotating bed center stage. The chronology of the sexual encounters could be linear or mixed up, so we're never sure if the woman is cheating or revisiting past flames in the flesh or flashback form.
So we get to see the woman have sex out of spite, sex out of boredom, sex out of familiarity, sex out of drunkenness, sex out of a need for companionship and on and on. It all varies upon the guys she is with, which range from a stubbly alcoholic ( Keith Neagle ) , a younger college guy ( Christopher Acevedo ) , a bearded bisexual guy ( Ben Carr ) , a childhood friend ( Colin Raymond ) and a departing boyfriend ( Chip Davis ) , among others.
Avidon pieces all these scenes together so the woman herself tries to make sense of why she can't seem to commit fully to a stable relationship. But as the end approaches, Avidon throws in a factoid ( from way out of left field ) about the woman's past familial history to explain why her relationships never work. It's a lame plot device that feels too easy, too pat and too simplistic to tidily wrap up everything that has gone on before it. ( What is it you may ask? Consider the demographics of the publication you're reading right now. )
With such fragmentary characters and situations, Avidon doesn't give much for audiences to take an active interest in the characters. The actors work with what they're given, frequently eliciting laughs in the process, but it all feels more like a series of acting exercises rather than anything truly deep or meaningful.
Director David Perez does what he can to make the show interesting, which includes Jeff Kelley playing guitar in-between scenes and a series of changing bedspreads and costumes atop the rotating bed ( all coordinated by Lara Dossett ) .
Undoubtedly Avidon is trying to explore something vital about sex and relationship breakdowns in fracture/mechanics. But ultimately it feels little more than an artsy opportunity to cop a look at the parade of shirtless guys and the leading lady in her panties.
