Theater Review: A Raucous Examination of Modern Feminism

Collective Rage: A Play in Five Betties

Written by Jen Silverman

Directed by Mike Donahue

MCC Theater, Manhattan

September 30, 2018

Since this is the year of theater treatments of gender and race issues, we should expect a range of experiences. My last review cast a serious light on the contrasting challenges women face in career vs. mother roles, featuring a dominant Glenn Close as Joan of Arc’s mother. Collective Rage was something entirely different—profane, chaotic, non-noble, but was a more honest treatment of the topic.  This was the funniest play I have seen since Mankind. Interestingly, both were single-sex cast treatments of changing gender roles, here five disparate but uniformly hysterical women portraying a range of women from different generations and economic classes, all named Betty. The word “pussy” probably occurred one hundred times, and was sort of a leitmotiv for explaining all sorts of actions, feelings, and conundrums faced by women in modern society. Sexual orientations ranged from straight to gender-fluid to masculine lesbian, to closeted “lipstick” lesbian, with each stereotype unapologetically portrayed in graphic and humorous detail. Director Mike Donohue should be credited for an inventive, brisk, and refreshing production that matched the lively tone of the play. Lighting was bright with primary colors and glare. Things (sofas, dildos) kept falling from the ceiling as a quick way of changing scenes or props, and the now-ubiquitous use of millennial video was done with a sense of humor; at one point Betty 2 (the marvelously insecure Adina Verson) was interviewed on stage with her video appearing to us above the stage. When she stood up in anger and rage, the video stayed focused in its original plane—now at the level of her pussy. 

While the play had the feel of a raucous low budget comedy skit, the blocking and timing was highly professional and virtuosic, and each actress (the five Betties) projected a memorable and distinct personality. There was some really experienced talent up there. Betty 3, a self-professed “star” and diva, was Ana Villafañe, a real diva who originated the role of  Gloria Estefan in the jukebox musical On your Feet on Broadway. She delivered a wonderful parody of a star turn by a beautiful, self-aggrandizing but insecure actress. In contrast Betty 4, played by Lea Delaria, was an insecure, jealous, butch lesbian constantly repairing car engines that dropped from the ceiling. Ms. Delaria too has a pedigree, playing Big Boo on Netflix’ Orange is the New Black. So, in at least a couple cases, actresses were cast to play parodies of their more famed roles elsewhere, a brilliant meta-touch.

But you did not have to have this familiarity to enjoy this raucous play that pushed silliness to a higher plane. The opening of the play was striking. Without dimming of lights or announcements, the dominating middle aged Betty 1 (the fantastic Dana Delany) marched in a slinky black dress onto the brightly lit, plain stage, glaring at the still-chatting audience, then told us how angry and afraid she was after spending her empty Upper East Side days at home watching cable news. Floods, AIDS, child kidnappings…what is a woman to do? 

Her evolution in the play was fantastic, first taking up boxing (to pretend hitting her neglectful investment banker husband Richard), then meeting the young, black gender-fluid Betty 5, and falling in love with her, then ultimately dressing up in her husband’s clothes with her new partner (they were then referred to as the two Richards).  The play managed to be a constant comedy-fest while still touching on topical #MeToo issues. But unlike many feminist, or minority, or gay plays, there was not a touch of self pity or lecturing at the audience. We learned our lessons while laughing, which for me is a much more effective way to reflect on society’s ills.