There is no problem that sex cannot solve. At least, that is the philosophy of Theater Emory’s latest production, “Lysistrata or Lucy’s Strategy: Atlanta’s Stolen Erection.” The musical, written by the ancient Greek playwright Aristophanes and newly translated by Assistant Professor of Classics David van Schoor, opened on April 10 under the direction of Park Krausen (99C).
While Aristophanes’ “Lysistrata” takes place in Greece during 411 BCE, covering a sex strike during the Peloponnesian War, van Schoor reimagines the story as a “pantheistic America” where citizens worship deities of all shapes and sizes. While the play included references to Greek gods like Zeus and Apollo, there were also mentions of controversial influencer Andrew Tate and Glinda the Good Witch from “The Wizard of Oz” (1993). Though amusing, these figures feel out of place, as the script has too many pop-culture references to ever establish a concrete foundation for the society of “Lysistrata.”
In this alternate world, Florida and Atlanta are two southern “sibling states” — like Greek city-states transported into modern times — who have been at war for decades. When Florida bombs a beauty pageant, killing the newly crowned “Miss Athens,” the women of both states are in shock. One woman in particular, Lucy (Andreanna Kitas (26C)), is outraged at the bombing and how the men continue to fight in a meaningless war. Thus, Lucy proposes that the women go on a sex strike to sway their husbands to acquiesce. After convincing the pageant women to abstain from “spreading their legs,” the women of Atlanta storm the state capital and refuse to leave until Florida and Atlanta reach an armistice.
At this point in the story, the writing begins to drift off, as the dialogue becomes immature rather than empowering. Throughout the play, Lucy and other women admit that if their husbands retaliate and abuse them during the strike, they will inevitably give in and provide them with sex. However, the threat’s dramatic tension is instantly negated by how the women jokingly lament their need for sexual gratification. This contradiction would be fine if “Lysistrata” did not attempt to hold a serious tone. When the play takes swings at heavier issues, those crude jokes linger, rendering the messages futile.
Despite the women’s anti-sex crusade, “Lysistrata” is highly erotic. The costumes, wigs and props are vibrant and provocative. The women wear blue wigs and cranberry dresses with spiral-patterned cones on their breasts, while the men sport cheetah coats and Harlem Globetrotters jerseys. Additionally, every male character has a form of accentuation drawing attention to their crotch, whether leather pouches, bananas, pickles or even plastic lightsabers.
These costumes draw attention to the overtly sexual nature of “Lysistrata” while providing the audience with necessary laughs. It is in these absurdist, over-the-top moments where “Lysistrata” succeeds. While sex jokes can be tiring when you have heard 19 ways to describe genitalia, the actors and actresses obviously understand the obnoxiousness of the onslaught of innuendos. No joke comes without a strange delivery. Standing out throughout the play were Jolene (Noah Lian (23Ox, 25C)), Victoria (Alexis Crupi (28C)) and the Florida Senator (Lila Bakir (28C)), with their crass performances and comic timing allowing them to make the most of lines like “Chalamet’d a local Timothee.”
“Lysistrata” also boasts impressive, sophomoric music from Music Director Eugene Russel IV and Assistant Music Director Olivia Stanley (28C). With minimal percussion alongside horns, adding low, reverie-like vibrations, the instruments accompany the various raps and songs. Among some of the gruffer vocals in the cast, actresses Dionna D. Davis and Crupi stand out throughout the play. Their great singing, complemented by silly lyrics, gives a much needed power to verses rejoicing over gorgeous ladies or presenting woes of sexless living.
However, the script does not spend enough time developing its characters. In turn, the key narrative moments and character growth segments are entirely detached from the humor-focused scenes. The results of the sex strike and the celebration that ensues at the strike’s conclusion should feel revelatory, but instead, they serve as a reminder that the senators, strikers and sex-starved are hollow figures built on nothing but gags. Despite the actors’ prowess, their characters resemble what a 10-year-old would write if he accidentally saw an adult film.
Overall, “Lysistrata” is an empty comedy. Satirical elements regarding the power imbalance between men and women in ancient times drown beneath an onslaught of obscene lines. Complexity and nuance are afterthoughts. The characters all feel like plot devices.
Nevertheless, “Lysistrata” is not bad. Most of the sex jokes are hilarious, whether it is watching men trying to conceal raging boners represented by blow-up toys or witnessing fake babies hurled across the stage. This humor saves “Lysistrata,” but the fundamental lack of structure is ever-present.
The best parts of the play come when the script ditches the poorly written drama and fully leans into the cartoonish nature of this alternate world. When the humor peaks, the cast is so animated and vulgar that it is reminiscent of shows aired on Adult Swim like “The Boondocks” (2005-2014) or even a highly elongated cut-away bit like in “Family Guy” (1999-). A peak moment in the play, exemplifying the resemblance to these shows, is when Lucy tasks Jolene with making Jolene’s husband, Ryder (Chase Brown (27C)), join their cause. Here, Brown gives the show’s standout performance — his comedic chops shine through the chiseled frame of a cowboy desperate to recover his cowgirl.
At its worst, “Lysistrata” is middling, bordering on unfunny. Any director would have difficulty dealing with such a lackluster script, but Krausen makes do with what she is given. Though “Lysistrata” has its fair share of issues, its problems are partially masked by its ridiculous and sultry humor. Any Emory student who is looking to laugh out loud for two hours and is comfortable with a remarkable amount of penis quips will find “Lysistrata” great. But do not bring the aforementioned 10-year-old — he might get the wrong idea.
Noble Garcia (he/him) is majoring in Film and Media Management and Accounting. He is from Haymarket, Virginia and roots for all Washington sports teams no matter how terrible. You can often find him writing for the Wheel, playing different instruments, or listening to music on his headphones.
