SMOKE
A play by Kim Davies
Smoke, the residue, and by-product of combustion, of burning. Smoke can take
many forms. Its aroma is either pleasant or wretched. It can, depending upon its
origin, be soothing, a sign of warmth and peace as in hearth and home. Or it can be
deadly. As any Fire Marshal will tell you, it’s not the flames, but the smoke which
kills. The winds of war are full of it. Smoke can also often obscure things as in
“smoke screen.”
The Smoke of Kim Davies play for the Flea is that contentious, noxious spew
made popular by 20th century film stars from an era known as the "Golden Age of
Hollywood" who hawked America's cash crop with great charm and even greater
ignorance as they glamorized the smoking of cigarettes. Smoking in those films
was either a prelude to or a post-climatic ritual after the act of having sexual
relations. And sex plays a very vivid role in this play.
The cigarette evolved as a poor man’s answer to the rich man's cigar. The sweepers
in tobacco factories would gather the discarded detritus and cuttings from the floor.
Wrap them in paper and proceed to enjoy an elite treat. So social status is
intricately entwined with the history of smoking. When inhalation became the
norm, the deleterious effects of habitual consumption began to be apparent. Lung
cancer being chief among the killer diseases directly linked with smoking along
with a plethora of associated maladies which can diminish a person’s quality of
health began to become prevalent conditions of the post war American population.
With all the conclusive science directly citing the smoking of tobacco products
with illness and with shortening life, you could think people would avoid the
substance as if it were a carcinogen like PCB's or Asbestos. Or imbibe with more
cautious and spiritual reverence. Not so. It is still in vogue with hard core addicts
who cannot kick the habit and with young people who believe it’s rebelliously
cool. Why is this? What drives otherwise intelligent human beings to such
dangerous and self-destructive behavior?
This
could conceivably be the question of the play since the characters also indulge
in dangerous behavior of the sexual kind. Ah, but it might also be that smoke
screen I spoke about.
In brief it's a play about an adventurous young woman of privilege, Julie (Madeline
Bundy), the daughter of an heiress and a successful artist, and a man, John
(Stephen Stout) who is eleven years her senior and in the employ of her father.
Despite his claim to the contrary, he is a slave to both his gender and his class.
They meet while sharing the clandestine act of sneaking a cig in the kitchen of a
loft party with a particular theme. (Read: 10,000 shades of purple). The ensuing 90
minutes, which moved at a very good pace as directed by Tom Costello, is
somewhat of an amalgam of David Ives'
Venus in Fur (2010) and Nilo Cruz's
Anna
in the Tropics (2002).
Anna is set in a Tampa Florida cigar factory on the verge of the industrial
revolution. Smoke, for family owners of the factory, is symbolic as a way of life
that adhered to and respected traditions. The invasion of modern machinery and
mass production threatened familiar ties to old world civility. Nilo Cruz with lyric
genius describes the significance of smoke and the leisurely, slow, celebratory
indulgence of taking ones time to enjoy a fine cigar. He makes the distinction
between that ritual and the bastardization of smoking a cigarette to justify a worker
taking a break from the assembly line.
Venus in Fur deals with Sado/Masochism in a very subtle manner. The characters
engage in a kinetic psychological thriller where physical flirtation inspires an
intellectual thrust, and retreat between a man and a woman who each believe they
know implicitly what the other wants, and needs.
Kim Davies’ Smoke turns out to be an Apache Dance with a message. The actors
work to inject a lot of charm into the piece which diffuses much of the menace.
Madeline Bundy as the overly worldly-wise Julie is delightful to watch as she slugs
a shot of Vodka or dribbles orange juice. Steven Stout as the charismatic John is
wonderful. It is a rare treat to see an actor actually blush on stage
in character.
There is some very clever intellectual give and take between a dominant man and a
submissive woman. Julie, against her declared feminist sensibilities, wants
someone to hurt her. Physically.
Mind you, to this point in her 20 year old life, no one has accepted her challenge, so whatever is turning her on comes from her imagination. John is veteran of "the scene" which indubitably is a different concept determined by one’s own notions, readings or experience. His preferred instrument of erotic torture: knives. Sexual relations on stage are always problematic and seldom as erotic as one may imagine. It can often be uncomfortable, but the two actors beautifully handled their choreography (Jesse Geguziz). There is actually something quite provincial about their relationship. These two were like any couple courting, except they both just like it a little rough. Things do get ugly before the end. Not unlike an evening at a frat party filled with alcohol, flirtation, and even foreplay, there comes a point where the stop sign gets run. Everything was very considerate and sexy until the “spoiled little rich girl” pissed the edgy S&M guy off by insulting...just about everything about him. Then it was no more Mr. "is this all right? Too much? Are you ok?" nice S&M guy. After the violation, he was all: “you just had a bad reaction, you're ok, it's ok," as he packed his stuff and callously left without remorse. “See ya.” The last tableau is of her reaching for the knife left on the kitchen table.
Rape is implied to have occurred in Anna in the Tropics when Cheche, the agent of progressive mechanization, appears to force himself on the young, idealistic, and innocent Marela. The rape in Smoke is far more graphic, yet less overt. A jolt to a jaded and sophisticated audience into the realization that rape is an act of violent domination regardless of circumstances?
When Mayor Michael Bloomberg signed the smoking ban into law in 2003 New York City, it was actually the culmination of a trend which began more than a decade before. Smoking is perhaps the most aggressive form of passive/aggressive behavior. The smoker is adamant about their right to be free to inhale their tobacco product. Yet that seemingly innocuous act has a downside. The smoker must exhale. In doing so they subject everyone around them to the by-product of their actions and make others, willing or no, participants by exposure to so called "second-hand smoke.” This almost describes very succinctly the Master/slave paradigm with the smoker assuming the dominant role. In addition, smokers will offer every justification under the sun to their right to imbibe their own poison since the environment is bombarded with a variety toxins from car exhaust to nail polish salons. Kim Davies captures the Nihilism of a generation of young cynics.
However, according to her, the impetus for the piece goes beyond the strictly philosophical. In an interview with the playwright by the Flea, Kim Davies explains her motives: “The undergraduate college I went to had a very pervasive date rape problem… I became very interested in anti-sexual assault activism, and I was involved for a while with a grassroots group based in the BDSM and queer communities… interested in ending the culture of acquaintance rape that is surprisingly endemic within the BDSM community in New York. The more I worked with people from that culture, the more I was reminded of the double-think and victim-shaming that happened at my relatively conservative undergrad. It was really fascinating to realize that a community that strongly self-identified as liberal and sex-positive and feminist was actually just as prone to rape as my predominantly white, upper-class, and heterosexual college campus had been – if not more so.”
Make no mistake; this is a theatrical interpretation of the scene. If indeed, it is a play about acquaintance rape, it is embedded deeply in a dramatization so provocative that to call the message mixed is an understatement. Yet all in all it is a very sexy production. "Great theater disturbs, inflames, transfigures.." to steal a quote from the Black Swan Theater manifesto. Consider me disturbed by watching what was essentially a rape. My belief may have been suspend, but the knowledge that what I witnessed wasn't real was of little comfort.
Smoke by Kim Davies, kitchen sink realism, Adult themes, raw, edgy, Cellar Theater at the Flea in downtown Manhattan. They smoked clove cigarettes, so that was a plus. At one point, the screen on the window slid closed on its own and the actors were really great with that. I think it’s really scary/hard to go from being strangers to having sex with knives in 90 minutes while trying to take care of a mixed audience. The Bats did just that.
