One-Sided Satire Mixes Morality With Absurdity

There's no justice here, Justice has a department of its own," barks Senator Hamfat Hum's aide as he turns away grant applicants. But this surreal political allegory's message seems to be that justice only exists outside the Beltway, although it requires government funding.

The Bathtub is a modernized version of a Russian political satire script from the 1920s. The updated play takes on the issues of federal funding for science and the arts, industrial exploitation of nature, sexual harassment and Senator Jesse Helms.

A bizarre mix of didacticism and absurdity, "The Bathtub" eschews realistic character development in favor of a morality-play approach. The depthless characters here are personified abstraction. This frees the play from having to reconcile the conflicting claims of moral message and realistic psychological portrayal.

The message's sometimes strident tone is lightened by moments of strange and occasionally pointless humor or slapstick, in addition to some very funny lines. Nonetheless, the 2 1/2 hour play would be less tiring to watch if the actors cut down on some of the shouting and bouncing around, especially in the first act.

The Bathtub

Adapted by Paul Schmidt from Vladimir Mayakovsky's "Banya"

Directed by Patrick Tan

At the Loeb Ex

Through July 11

Even if the production does not aim to create the illusion of realism, too much declaiming instead of speaking makes the play sound forced and unnatural, as if the actors want to be really, really sure we get the message. Fortunately, this is less of a problem in the second act.

Talented acting by the entire cast gives depth and nuances to the one-note characters. Especially commendable is Richard Nash, who plays both Senator Hum and scientist Harry Stranger. The plot is full of odd digressions, but its basic theme is Stranger's efforts to finance his time machine and use it for the benefit of humanity.

Stranger of approached by numerous corrupt types who want to use their tainted money to buy his idea. Among them is reporter Jim Jettison (Director Patrick Tan), who seeks to sell papers by uncovering "sex secrets of the past--where did the Venus de Milo have her hands before she lost her arms?"

Stranger and his friends turn away these purveyors of tainted loot and repeat their determination to seek government support. Yet given the corrupt character of Senator Hum, one wonders why money conferred by him is any less rotten. This question is never addressed.

Hum is the classic good ol' boy who oppresses his wife, sexually harasses his secretary ("There are laws about safety in the workplace and you just ignore 'em with those hazardous things o' yours, Miss Undertow"), and makes speeches about the "brown tide of wetbacks" encroaching on "this great white nation."

Opposing the forces of big Government and Evil Money are the Peace and Egalitarianism of a character from the future (Shelley Salamensky), who travels via the time machine and preaches about our present failures in women's rights, the environment and respect for the arts. Billed in the program as "the phosphorescent woman," she wears a floor-length Indian print dress of 1960s variety and talks in a blissed-out voice about sharing the earth.

Since the audience is clearly meant to take her seriously, it seems counterproductive to portray the messenger figure as a New Age hippie, a stereotype even liberal tree-huggers tend to mock. Is this an ironic undercutting of the fable's hitherto sincere message, or an unintentional lack of artistic imagination? The character is thought-provoking but ultimately unclear in intent and frustrating.

The same might be said of many features of The Bathtub. The set is structured like a modern art gallery, and the audience has to walk through it to reach the stage. While some of the art objects are used to satirical effect--Senator Hum poses under Jasper Johns' "Three Flags" for a patriotic-looking photo--others seem intriguing but extraneous. There seems to be little function for a polyurethane foam "Iava" trail that leads from the audience to the side wall of the stage.

Another interesting idea whose significance is unclear is the race and gender reversals among the cast. Actress Cori Lynn Peterson is cast as boy mechanic Billy Biker, Stranger's sidekick. Japanese Mr. Yamarama is played by Bryan Van Gorder, a white actor. "Frank" and "Hank" (Sarah Sidman and Vonnie Roemer) are two valley-girl types wearing black sunglasses and neon bolero tops.

This cross-casting is intended to criticize race and gender stereotypes in contrast to Hum's prejudices. But in a genre that depends on the substitution of archetypes for complex characters, this attack seems singularly out of place.

The play breaks its one-dimensional approach at one point in the second act, when Senator Ham talks to the phosphorescent woman. Hum does have compassion for one group--the people of his poor state--and his greed and ruthlessness are partly based on a fear that he will be poor again someday. Money for farmers is more important to him than money for Eastern liberal artists who despise him for his Southern, lower-class roots.

"But art feeds the soul, not the body," the phosphorescent woman says. Hum counters, "You try telling that to a man eating mush."

Yet Ham's vulnerability is soon masked by another bigoted tirade, never to reappear. More of this kind of complexity could give the play depth and direction when the message and the pointless slapstick begin to get stale.

On the whole, The Bathtub is an entertaining piece of work, only occasionally marred by tiresome moralism and absurdity that is pretentious rather than humorous. Even those who find its message too simplistic can enjoy it for its witty lines and fine acting.