Classic play made risque

When students hear “classic Greek play,” they get a little nervous. Usually the subject of essays, classic plays, like Aristophanes’ “Lysistrata,” seldom excite the college crowd. The CSC Theatre Department aims to change this, however, with their new production of the classic play.

“Lysistrata” follows one woman’s attempt to end the Peloponnesian war via sex-strike. Lysistrata, played by Sara Labor, senior of Hot Springs, S.D., convinces all the war-weary women to withhold their most valuable “resource” until peace is declared. The women of Greece refuse to go to bed when called, and copulatory hilarity ensues.

Adapted from Aristophanes’ original play, CSC’s version has been distilled by playwright Ellen McLaughlin. That means no “thees” and “thous” to hinder audiences, and plenty of casual speech, like such Greek favorites as “nookie” and “piece of ass.” Despite these crude modernisms, McLaughlin’s adaption doesn’t stray far from the heart of the Grecian tale. For its time, “Lysistrata” was bawdy and brash, its lines filled with sexual puns and double entendre. This translates well for those theatre attendees who aren’t looking for an “elevated night of theatre,” as one of the chorus girls says.

The two chorus members roles, played by Christina Morris, freshman of Greatfalls, Mont., and Shanda Shappell, freshman of Malcolm, reflect how the play has changed. Their part, as the Athenian chorus, is a dramatic technique as old as Grecian theatre. Most Grecian chorus members were not fast-talking sass-masters like Morris and Shappell, but their function remains the same. The pair fill in backstory, enabling the story’s rapid pace. They also set the stage the most genitalia jokes this reviewer has ever heard. Almost every line is a reference to some sexual machinery, and the desires behind them drive the show.

The play is rescued by its self-conscious tone; the frequent fourth-wall breaks let the audience know that everyone in the theatre, including the actors, know how silly it is. At one point, during a verbal spar with the rouge goddess Lysistrata, the Magistrate, a fantastic curmudgeon played by Ryan Steinhour, junior of Mansfield, Ohio, asks, “Have we done enough dick jokes?” The play’s answer is no; there are never enough.

Underneath the penis puns, however, Lysistrata packs an anti-war message as heartfelt as its jokes are testicular. The play is quick and dirty, taking up only 55 minutes of the audience’s time, and its meaning is as obvious as the phallic-shaped balloons that the male characters wear. The play’s point is pithy, and its sentiments are encapsulated, frequently, by the cast with aphorisms like “sex is good, war is bad.” However, a lack of depth does not equal a lack of quality. Many patrons, especially of the collegiate variety, will enjoy the quick-step humor and accessible story. The character’s motivations are clear, the their goals, whether it’s sex or peace, are universally relate-able. The cast, a smorgasbord of returning and fresh talent, keep the pace (and the inflatable genitals) up. The cast has clearly worked on overlapping lines and pushing each other’s dialogue to move the multiple-character scenes along. Due to this, these portions, which could be bogged down by so many participants, are actually some of the play’s most lively. This show has fought to be fun, and the cast’s efforts are rewarded by some genuine laughs. There’s nothing quite as satisfying as watching cock-blocking for the greater good.

The laughs are not the only modern aspect of this revamped classic. In a moment of political philosophy, Lysistrata argues with the Magistrate about her motivations. The Magistrate, clad in a shabby half-toga, tells Lysistrata, “Your sphere is too narrow to appreciate what we do for you.” This patronizing diatribe only inflames the red-haired protagonist, and Lysistrata responds that women understand combat far better than men. Women must suffer the losses while feeling helpless at controlling the outcome. This idea is as old as warfare itself, and it extends beyond McLaughlin’s adaptation and the CSC’s theatre. In Ukraine right now, women are protesting Russia’s annexation of the Crimea in the good-old-fashioned Lysistrata method: a sex strike. Wearing T-shirts that read “Don’t give it to a Russian,” these Ukrainian women have launched gender-wide boycott on Russian “goods.” One hopes their struggle ends as well as Lysistrata’s.

For all its sexual humor, the political ideas that Lysistrata lampoons are real and important. Aristophanes understood, centuries ago, what the makers of The Daily Show know now: if you want people to think about something, make them laugh about it. Lysistrata, with its fem-power cast and anti-war message, may be even more relevant today than it was 3,426 years ago.