Extreme but worth it
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In the song “Blurred Lines,” Robin Thicke says “I know you want it” 18 times. Ignore it, defend it, abhor it; we live in a world where consent takes a back seat to objectification, and where plays like William Mastrosimone’s “Extremities” are more important than ever. This play is the most recent ambition for Chadron State College’s theatre department, following a string of increasingly intense and intelligent plays. “Extremities” is both of those things. The play follows three roommates whose true colors show after a serial rapist breaks in and attacks one of them. The attacked woman, Marjorie, played by Jada Fisk, senior of Rapid City, South Dakota, is torn from her normal morning by a horrific mental and physical assault. Miraculously, Marjorie overpowers the rapist, and in one of the most intense scenes I’ve ever watched, she brutalizes her would-be killer.
Doug Valade, senior of Gering, plays Raul, the rapist. Clean-cut and just a little creepy, Valade’s Raul commands chauvinistic lust and psychotic fear with equal power. Combine that with Fisk’s victim turned vengeance, and the pair’s chemistry is gasoline and matches. Raul’s desperate mental games and Marjorie’s iron resolve blur the boundaries between attacker and victim, between, as Marjorie says, “the animals”
In this living room battlefield, Raul pits Marjorie and her friends against each other to escape. Marjorie is the voice of anger. Raul broke in to attack her, after stalking her for weeks, and Marjorie tortures him to confess his attempted rape in front of her roommates. This self-defense turned vigilante justice proves problematic when Raul threatens that no court will believe her non-existent rape story. Fisk’s ferocious, fear-driven performance kept me tense the entire play, and her intensity is only matched by her variety.
The next woman, Terry, played by Tami Rethman, junior of Verden, is the voice of society. She just wants the whole trauma to go away. As the story unfolds, the audience learns that Terry has more intimate experience with rape then even Marjorie, but she insists on brushing it away. Defending yourself will only get you arrested or killed, and for this whistle-wearing woman, survival beats justice. Rethman’s Terry embodies the cultural pulse so well, audience members may find in her something they don’t like about themselves.
Last on the scene is Patricia, played by sophomore of Sturgis, South Dakota, Jessica Schepers. She is the voice of the law, bringing legalese and rationality into the boiling mix. Schepers’ Patricia sees court as the only solution, and tries to apply psychotherapy to the embattled Marjorie. Patricia captures the strict, prescriptive mentality that the law offers rape victims, and her tactics work about as well as the law’s work in real life. Schepers’ composure and force are perfect to play against Fisk’s passion, and their exchanges reveal Marjorie’s real fear: that once it starts, rape—of one’s life—never ends.
This is one of the painful truths Mastrosimone’s play reveals. The work isn’t preachy; it’s dark and strong, and if you don’t think you should see it, that’s exactly why you should.
The set is compact and clever, the props precise and detailed, the costumes unobtrusive and honest, and the sound design, heart-breaking. However, all of these elements fade out of view as the story’s burning interrogation light turns towards us. The audience can’t help but feel a connection, vulnerability, horror, pity, or all of those at once. The show is masterful not only for it’s cringe-worthy effects and heart-stopping choreography, it’s utterly human. No one is the “good guy,” no one the “bad guy.” Valade’s Raul is creepy, coarse, and evil, but Fisk’s revenge-fueled Marjorie stoops to the same levels as the play progresses. Ultimately, sexual assault leaves every participant broken, showing the true, destructive nature of the act. Only the audience benefits from seeing the battlefield. We’re the ones who learn.
More powerful than the outright violence, however, is the effort of the other roommates, Terry and Patricia, to ignore it. When Raul turns the pair against Marjorie, even though the audience saw him assault her, we can’t help but feel convinced. Our own convictions turn against us, and the play capitalizes on that. Scott Cavin, director, brought “Extremities” to CSC to promote conversations on rape. We want to act like Terry and Patricia, and sweep discomfort under the rug. The play allows us to overcome that. Please, do your future self a favor and see “Extremities.” It’s worth it, just to read program. It’s worth it, because you may find yourself on a jury one day. It’s worth it, because if you think you know what they’re going to say: you’re wrong. It’s worth it, because this show’s blurred lines showed me a clearer picture than I’ve seen in a long time.