These days there is plenty of talk about sex. Radio shows, movies, TV, the Internet… anywhere you look, there is talk about or simulation of sex. Some studies say this is because there is less sex actually happening in the general public. If Portland Center Stage’s The Underpants is any indication, more talk about sex does indeed equal less action.
Gimme some action
These days there is plenty of talk about sex. Radio shows, movies, TV, the Internet… anywhere you look, there is talk about or simulation of sex. Some studies say this is because there is less sex actually happening in the general public. If Portland Center Stage’s The Underpants is any indication, more talk about sex does indeed equal less action.
The Underpants was originally written by German playwright Carl Sternheim, one of the few notable humorists to come out of the country. It was one of a six-play series that skewered the middle class. That theme went out the window once actor Steve Martin got a hold of the material, however.
Before you get your hopes up, I should tell you that Steve Martin does not act in this play. He translated and re-adapted it. It turns out that the funnyman some people love and others hate is a writer as well as an actor. He wrote several of his films and has also written a couple of plays. One of those earlier writing efforts led to an offer to introduce this work to American audiences.
The historical setting of pre-Nazi 19th century Germany is retained, but mostly for its exotic feel. The dialogue and interactions are more modern, although when it comes to sex humor, there is a lot that is timeless. The Underpants centers on the story of a boring and sexless middle-class couple whose life is spiced up following an incident when the wife’s underpants accidentally drop while she is in a crowd watching the king go by.
The couple has a room they are trying to rent and suddenly they are overwhelmed with prospective renters, all men who witnessed the salacious incident, it turns out. One is the suave and insufferably sensitive Italian poet Frank Versati, the other a hypochondriac Jewish barber named Benjamin Cohen. Versati aims to seduce the willing wife, Louise. Cohen, in his jealousy, does everything he can to keep that from happening.
All sorts of hilarity ensue, including an incident where Versati is so inspired by Louise’s statement, “take me,” that he leaves her in the middle of foreplay to write a love poem. They never do consummate the affair. The nosy neighbor who lives vicariously through Louise, Gertrude, introduces a lot of funny moments as well.
If you are expecting sex, though, this is not the production for you. The other German sex play at Portland Center Stage right now, Cabaret, is much more up that alley. This is more of your parents’ sex play and the main joke is that for all the talk of sex, no sex actually happens. The jokes and the physical hilarity are all entertaining, but for a sex play very little is actually arousing.
David Watson and Elizabeth Meadows Rouse were imported from New York to play the main couple in this play. Although they did fine, I don’t see why Portland Center Stage couldn’t find local actors for this production like they did for Cabaret, which is so good it is going on the road soon. Local actor Sharonlee McLean was hilarious as the nosy neighbor and Michael Borrelli brought non-stop laughs as the pretentiously sensitive poet. Another local, John Steinkamp, was a breath of fresh air as the dryly funny and surprisingly substantial, obsessed barber.
If there is a deeper theme in this play, it is the ever-popular theme of gender politics. In a society and setting where she has little power, the woman ultimately exercises a great deal of power by the simple act of accidentally dropping her underpants in public. While men may still run the world for the most part, the things they will do for a little action often know no limits.
Like all comedies of extra-marital affairs, this one glosses over the more difficult issues that often tend to ensue. The ending at first looks like the wife is going to go back to her ordinary life, pre-underpants dropping, but Steve Martin re-wrote an ending that leaves the power strictly in her hands. Until women have more power in other areas, for now they still have the say over whether talk ever becomes action.
The Underpants runs through Dec. 2 most nights and matinees on the weekends in the Studio Theater, downstairs at the Armory. Prices vary, but are usually $20 for students.
