Brazen-Faced Varlets: And now for something COMPLETELY different

No full-fledged Scene Report today, since I only had the time/energy for one BIF event. But even it was two--two!--shows in one, so there.

By my thoroughly unscientific estimation, Buffalo Infringement is now (and for the last two or three years) about two-thirds music acts, which is fine by me, since a lot of them interest me and the mix of art forms is absolutely true to the vibe of WNY. But my heart will always be with the kind of theater that was the (or at least an) original focus of the festival, both here and elsewhere. Amazingly, I hadn't been to a single sit-down play till today, and that just didn't feel right.



There was no way I was gonna miss the latest Brazen-Faced Varlets show if I could help it, and the news that they'd be performing an early play of Holly Hughes's sealed the deal. I've been a fan of this (primarily) lesbian-focussed theater company since the first time I saw them, in the 2006 festival doing Ramona and Juliet, and one of my companions at the show tonight reminded me that I first met Holly 23 (!) years ago, when I brought her and other members of WOW Cafe (some of them members of the original cast of The Well of Horniness) to Hallwalls. A marriage made in heaven, assuming heaven is more welcoming of same-sex alliances than we mortals appear to be.

You'll notice I've used the name of the group as the subject line and haven't even mentioned the title of the show yet. That's because "HERstrionics! A HERstorical and HERsterical Hour of Homosexuality" is a clunker of an omnibus name that I doubt many people can remember. All you need to know is that this is the latest group undertaking by one of Buffalo's finest ensembles.

Well, you should probably also know that they're working outside their, and their audience's, comfort zone this time. If you've seen either of their two Shakespeare de-/re-constructions (or, I assume, Catholic School Girls, which I missed), you know they're collectively blessed with terrific comic timing. Apparently they're feeling comedy is too limiting, because they've paired Hughes's ultra-broad (pun not intended but appropriate) soap opera parody with--brace yourself--Kim Yaged's ultra-serious, ultra-didactic one-act about the fate of lesbians in the Holocaust. I'm hard pressed to think of two plays that have less in common; the only link I can think of is the fact that both playwrights love to play with language--but let's face it, Hughes's way with words, even in an intentionally tossed off sketch like this (it was born as an ongoing serial for WOW's teensy club/theater in the East Village in the early 80s) is on an entirely different level than Yaged's in Vessels.

OK, so the other connecting thread is that they're both well performed. Vessels does showcase the talents of three of the four main Varlets, Heather Fangsrud, Kelly M. Beuth, and Lara Haberberger. (Katie White is otherwise engaged with Shakespeare in the Park this summer, though her spirit does make a kind of cameo I won't spoil.) They each embody aspects of The Lesbian Experience in the Weimar Era (and yes, the script pretty much obliges them to describe themselves in roughly that way) in a loosely plotted tale that is undeniably moving, but so heavy-handed that you feel like it's straight out of a Women's Studies conference from the mid-70s. I'm glad someone has documented the period, and there are some powerful parallels to the current era in the play's observations on the price of apathy in the face of totalitarianism, but this is the kind of art that feels like it's Good for You, like eating your vegetables, rather than the kind of art that shakes you to the core and transforms the way you live, which is what I suspect it aspires to do.

Hughes's raunchy Well of Horniness doesn't set out to change anyone's life, either, but one never knows--its shoestring aesthetic and anything-goes spirit just might inspire another generation or two of young queer theater artists, as it has been doing for the last two decades. (When I first encountered Holly's work, it felt like a huge breath of fresh air after years of plays like Vessels.) (I realize my continually pitting these two playwrights against each other violates the non-competitive nature of both art and feminism, but the juxtaposition wasn't my idea in the first place.) The core trio is joined by Bethany Sparacio (a born Varlet herself) and Amelia Kraatz (a worthy grounding force for the "herstrionics" of the others, as she's used here) in a show tailor-made for this cast's considerable gifts. Everybody plays multiple roles, and plays them with irresistible energy. I won't bother you with the plot; trust me, it's not really the point, just a springboard for all manner of hilarity. (Obligatory disclaimer to non-homos of either gender: you absolutely do not have to be a member of the "Tri-Bad" sorority to laugh your ass off here.)

Ah, hilarity and the Holocaust: what a double bill! I don't mean to hate on the serious half; I'm sure its content will be a revelation to many audience members, and I can't fault the company for venturing beyond what they do best. (Besides, it's only thirty minutes long.) But when a certain phone call arrives half an hour into the proceedings and the tone changes radically, allowing the Varlets to do that voodoo that they do so well, I think you'll agree that a good belly laugh is sometimes more subversive than a heartfelt lecture.

PS. Exciting news! More Brazen-Faced Hughes ahead, since the company's next production has Haberberger directing Beuth in the monologue Clit Notes at Rust Belt, Oct. 1-10.