Vagina Monologues at The Victoria Hall

Review of The Vagina Monologues at The Victoria Hall

Two and a half stars

In 2018 the New York Times stated of the groundbreaking play The Vagina Monologues, “No other work of theatre has had a greater impact worldwide.” Created in 1996 by Eve Ensler and based on interviews with 200 women about their relationship with their bodies, sex, and their experience of violence, the popularity and relevance of the play spread world-wide. Ensler’s sex positive mission to empower women evolved into an international campaign to end violence against women. She has since raised over 120 million dollars towards this end with her not-for-profit charity ‘One Billion Rising’.

With this legacy, Culture Vulture attended a performance of The Vagina Monologues at The Victoria Hall in Fremantle with high expectations, and unfortunately found it sadly lacking. There were some poignant and comedic moments, but it lacked the fire, courage and call to action that Ensler’s script demands.

There were some glaring omissions. The monologue “I Was Twelve, My Mother Slapped Me’ about menstruation was not included, and neither was one of the most powerful monologues “My Vagina Was My Village” which, compiled from testimonials of Bosnian women about their horrific experience in rape camps during the Bosnian war, speaks to the sex trafficking and sex crimes still taking place today as a result of the war in Ukraine.

The black voices in the script were noticeably absent, and it was disappointing to see an all-white cast when a good portion of Ensler’s monologues were based on testimonials from people of colour. ‘The Little Coochie Snorcher That Could’ is a black story which was also omitted. This has been one of the most controversial monologues in Ensler’s play, because it tells the story of a black woman who, after experiencing sexual trauma and rape, is able to heal and transform her relationship with her body after being consensually seduced by an older woman. The monologue was called out by conservative critic Robert Swope as an example of female rape. (The woman was 13 at the time of seduction and her lover 25.) But this was a true story told by a woman who clearly enjoyed a positive consensual experience with her older lover. Her story is a fascinating insight into the unconventional paths that can lead to healing.

Controversial stories that illuminate the grey area of ethical behavior are good for audiences. They are thought-provoking and act as catalysts for important discussion. Avoiding them is an insult to the intelligence of audiences. It deprives them of the opportunity to arrive at their own decisions about where they stand on ethical issues. It was very disappointing to see such a complex monologue censored from this production.

The production did include some recent statistics about violence against women in Australia which were a potent reminder that this issue is in our back yard and screaming to be addressed. Each year Ensler adds a new monologue to The Vagina Monologues to reflect a different culture or demographic around the world. In Australia, Aboriginal children are 7 times more likely to be sexually abused than white children, and Aboriginal women 6 times more likely to be sexually abused than white women. Eve Ensler would be well advised to take a look at this hidden issue in Australia and include it in her play. In keeping with the times, she has recently added a monologue about a woman in a burka (‘Under The Burka’) and a monologue about a transwoman (‘They Beat The Girl Out of My Boy’) which were also disappointingly not included in this production.

Some of the monologues were performed well, but others fell short. Mikayla Merks, after a bumpy beginning which included clumsy sight reading and garbled lines, eventually redeemed herself with a poignant and beautifully authentic performance of ‘The Vagina Workshop”, in which an English woman first experiences an orgasm at her own hands. Alison Van Reeken gave a strong and thought-provoking reading of ‘The Woman Who Liked to Make Vagina’s Happy’ about a lawyer turned dominatrix who specialises in female pleasure, and Sarah McNeil delivered the delightful ‘Reclaiming Cunt’ with clear diction and great comic timing.

However, there were also quite a few moments that did not ring true. The different types of moans demonstrated in response to desire were coy and did not always hit the spot (pardon the pun). Sarah McNeil’s rendition of “The Flood”, about an older woman’s sexual shut down after being shamed in her youth, lacked the vulnerability and pathos required to make the story moving. Without the pathos, the humour that closed it came across as a parody of elderly sexuality. Alison Van Reeken performed ‘Because He Liked To Look At It’ with an Australian accent that sounded a little forced, and seemed at odds with the language, so the speech did not entirely ring true. There were also unnecessary sound cues such as Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love” playing in the background of one speech, which detracted from the performance rather than adding to it.

To put it plainly, the production lacked direction. It needed an outside eye to bring coherence and a sense of the bigger picture to the actors’ performances. It also needed a braver, bolder vision to do justice to the courageous women who shared their stories. It lacked the element of risk and honesty that the script required.