I’m still not sure how I feel about this Sordid Lives business. For those of you who don’t know the play (or the movie), it’s basically a black comedy about a one-step-above-white-trash Texas family mourning the loss of its matriarch–a woman of a certain age who dies during a tryst in a seedy motel room after tripping over her adulterous lover’s wooden legs.
Yes, I know it sounds funny. And we’ve got a fantastic cast who really excel at Southern parody while still managing to find the realness of the story so that it’s not a two-hour-long cartoon brought to life.
The problem is that the show is framed by the story of the dead woman’s grandson–an actor living in New York who’s having trouble coming out, especially to his family. He has these endless monologues about being closeted and his fears, and frankly, I don’t give a shit. I mean, maybe when the play was written a decade ago–back when everyone was writing her/his coming out story–these were seriously pressing concerns, but in the era of Queer Eye and Queer as Folk and Gay Sex in the Gay City and The Simple Gay Life and everything short of Matt Lauer buttfucking Al Roker on national TV (now there’s something I’d pay money to see), does anyone really care? Especially audiences here in New Orleans, where there’s a huge, highly visible gay population? Maybe if we were doing this in my hometown in Mississippi, it’d be a little more meaningful and political and stuff, but here…. Personally, I think it distracts from the bust-ass funny other parts of the script. Note: you may want to consider some revisions, Mr. Shores, given the current political climate.
I know I’m speaking from a position of relative priviledge. I know that I’m a well-educated white male who lives in a gay ghetto and who’s had the luxury of being out for some time and who’s never really felt any repercussions from it. I know there are other folks in other parts of the country to whom this play would speak profoundly. Unfortunately, they’re not the folks who are going to be buying tickets to the damn thing.
Not that I’m worried about ticket sales, per se. We’ll do fine. The show will make money. We haven’t even opened yet, and we’re selling well. Still I’ll be glad to get back to the really fun stuff.
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