Theater Schmeater's Reservoir Dolls: No Nonsense Tough Broads

What is it about Western entertainments that steadfastly refuses to accept that women can be just as fierce and as dangerous as men? It is a curious circumstance, that after all the gains made by the fairer sex, the most dangerous representations of our sisters in our fictions are the femme fatales of films past; the only thing that makes them someone to be wary of is that they approach relationships, sex and life like men (think Linda Fiorentino in The Last Seduction, or Barbara Stanwyck in Double Indemnity).

These women are smart, wily and cunning, but they could hardly be described as women you wouldn't want to fuck with, in fact it is their very seductiveness that makes them all the more dangerous. Until recently, the only exceptions were Linda Carter, Lucy Lawless, and Tura Satana before either of them. There is simply a paucity of tough-as-nails broads to be seen. Whatever else may be said about the crazy-ass mores on display in Asian cinema, the fact that women can kick your ass bloody is something that is taken for granted there and entirely novel here...Nearly two decades after Supercop introduced the West to Michelle Yeoh, Hollywood is finally starting to catch up.

Nowhere is this paucity more evident than on our stages, where women are rarely, if ever, given the opportunity to just show off their potential for being badass, unless it is used for comedic effect. Consider that we are little more than a week away from a stage adaptation of one of Jane Austen's popular novels -- there is undoubtedly an audience for such fare, but those who might be feeling a bit burnt out on women flouncing in a costume drama/romcom would be left wanting.

Enter Reservoir Dolls, Erika Anne Soerensen's stage adaptation of Quentin Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs, currently in production at Theater Schmeater in Capitol Hill. As the title implies, the primary difference between the two works is a central gender reversal that drastically alters the impact of the original in a number of ways.

That impact won't be as strong for those who are intimately familiar with Tarantino's source material, these people know who they are, what they will see is a pretty faithful transposing of Dog's basic story beats and dialogue coming out of the mouths of women. It is easy to over-estimate how many people are that familiar with the work, however, and those coming to Dolls either completely unaware of what transpires or with foggy memories of some brutal business will be quickly caught up in the visceral flow of the evening.

The other danger in deciding to switch genders with something as iconically and decidedly male as Dogs is that if the performances were not assuredly female enough, the whole production could easily become a painful mess of women playing caricatures of what they think men are supposed to be. Fortunately, though there was one scene early in the proceedings that came within yards of crossing the line on the evening this correspondent saw Dolls, director JD Lloyd and his cast of strong female actors steer well enough away of this pitfall, and instead head toward a dark and bruising tension-filled experience. [***SPOILER***: It isn't that women wouldn't hold the infamous Madonna conversation, it's that maybe they wouldn't be posturing so much while doing so, in this correspondent's opinion.***END SPOILER***]

It is here that Dolls makes its strongest case as a piece of theater, as opposed to simple regurgitation of the movie. It is easy to forget that seeing two-dimensional objects projected onto a screen gives us a sense of comfort and security. No matter how engrossed we are with the proceedings, we know that what's happening isn't real. No such comfort when the actors are separated from the audience by mere feet, and this show is every bit as vicious and raw as those familiar with the source would expect. The fight choreography by Caleb Penn excels in a season that has been inundated with staged combat, every blow is felt with such force that it takes a psychic toll on the audience.

The relentless violence and gunplay juices the proceedings with a Russ Meyers-like edge (without the exploitation); here are women you do not want to fuck with. This subversive feminist assault is highlighted when the cop is brought into play, this violence has a whole different meaning in this context. Director JD Lloyd is to be commended for his effective use of pulp trappings to deliver this grisly bit of gleeful subversion.

In fact, Dolls' only flaw is the same as the movie's, (which is a danger of the Nerdcore Theater genre, the problems of the source become the problems of the adaptation). It is simply that the story takes its time to get a full head of steam. This is not a complaint, all told, because this is what is known as "establishing the stakes," setting up the pieces so that when the climactic moment arrives, the action means something.

Fittingly, in a production that aims to knock down weak feminine stereotypes, the performances are suitably strong and assured, even if a couple of characters don't have a lot of time to make their presence felt. The bulk of the stereotype busting is done by Christine White's Ms. White and Lisa Viertel's Ms. Blonde. As the character undergoing a crisis of faith and identity, White's Ms. White possesses a gravitas and integrity that permeates the space while chaos is flying around her. Danger emanates from every pore of Viertel's Ms. Blonde; her steely gaze and 'fuck you' demeanor commands attention whenever she's on stage. It is with nervous giddiness that one watches her as the familiar strains from Steeler's Wheel's "Stuck In The Middle With You" plays over the radio in the second act.

If you have an aversion to corrosive swearing ("c*nt motherfucker" is a popular one), and vicious, graphic violence, cop abuse, or women taking charge make you uncomfortable, then this show might not be for you. If, however, you read that description and it thrills you even in the slightest bit, then consider yourself a winner.

Tura Satana would be proud.

Thursday through Saturday at 8:00 p.m..; May 20 - June 18 // Theater Schmeater, 1500 Summit Avenue // $15 - $18, tickets available through Brown Paper Tickets