A History of Sexual Violence

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The New York Sun

Christopher Denham’s “Cagelove,” which opened on Monday at the Rattlestick Playwrights Theater downtown, has more than a passing resemblance to “Red Light Winter,” the drama now enjoying an extended run a few blocks away at the Barrow Street Theatre. For one thing, “Cagelove” is directed by Adam Rapp, the author/director of “Red Light Winter.” For another, Mr. Denham, who wrote “Cagelove,” plays the lead character (a struggling playwright) in “Red Light Winter.” Both plays are dark, churlish three-character dramas; both have creepy, inappropriate love triangles; and both hinge on the actions of a bruised, hypersexual waif.

But whereas “Red Light Winter” is rescued from its own icy cruelty by moments of unexpected warmth and humor, “Cagelove” refuses to yield its coolness. Friendship and romance may be curdled and destroyed in “Red Light Winter,” but they still exist as idealized objects of yearning. In “Cagelove,” friends are so vicious – and lovers so evil – that the very idea of friendship or romance becomes repulsive.

“Cagelove” begins just after the rape of Katie (Gillian Jacobs), a stereotypical sexy downtown girl with big breasts, a small waist, tattoos, a foul mouth, and vague artistic credentials (she is forever going to the darkroom to get ready for the big show). Katie’s recent rape seems to make her hunger for sex with her fiance, Sam (Daniel Eric Gold), who can’t touch her because he’s so unnerved. Sam, an e-commerce vice president, is as square as the label implies – he just wants to get a lawyer and put the rapist behind bars.

But Katie won’t cooperate fully – she knew the rapist before, and used to go out with him. Wracked by jealousy, struggling with his violent rage, Sam tries to get the story out of Katie’s sister, Ellen (Emily Cass McDonnell). The Iago-like Ellen, who would clearly like to sleep with her sister’s fiance, is only too happy to tell him the sordid history – and inform him that Katie continues to go to the rapist’s empty apartment every day.

This would seem to be a dark enough scenario, but Mr. Denham, perhaps sensing how thin his characters are, escalates from here. Sam becomes first a consumer of gruesome pornography, then a fiend who will sleep with his fiancee’s sister in order to get more dirt on her, and finally a sexual attacker. Katie’s big revelation (a thoroughly unconvincing one) is that she submitted to the rape willingly, in order to prevent her ex from killing Sam – or, actually, from flaying Sam alive while forcing her to take pictures.

As a writer, Mr. Denham has deep roots in the horror genre, but this is not a horror movie, in which making the audience recoil is the aim. Here, the audience just feels bludgeoned – and not in a good way. His director is a man of the literary theater, and the more Mr. Denham ratchets up the gruesomeness, the more the audience recoils.

When I saw Mr. Rapp’s “Red Light Winter,” I was impressed by his facility with language and his ability to create male characters. But it seemed to me that he never really developed his female protagonist – she remained a sort of angel-prostitute of the most unoriginal type. It seemed odd that a playwright who was so smart and so capable should write such a weak female character – one whose motivations seemed so ill-conceived and unconvincing, especially in contrast with the two brilliantly-written male characters.

Now, as Mr. Rapp directs Mr. Denham’s play, the same problem surfaces – that stereotypical female, put on a pedestal and not developed. Katie has sexual power, street smarts, a downtown morality, and a craving for bad boys – why is she planning to marry a computer programmer? The playwright seems drawn to her because she loves sex, but then her punishes for that appetite, with her sexual encounters – whether with a rapist or her fiance – ending in violence.

It would help if Mr. Denham’s play made him seem aware of the fact that his male hero was further traumatizing a rape victim to no dramatic purpose. But such problems are unanswered in “Cagelove.” Back stories are introduced and dropped as new, contradictory ones are introduced. (Sam, we’re told, is vomiting all the time after Katie’s rape; but soon enough he loses all sympathy for her.) The characters bicker endlessly, like acting partners in a class exercise who have been forbidden to yield. And bland pop psychology explanations are offered up like trump cards in critical scenes – where they prove nothing, except how inconsistent these characters are.

The capable actors muddle through, and Mr. Rapp’s direction helps mask some of the play’s flaws. But it seems disconcerting that “Cagelove,” which has more dramatic problems than you can shake a stick at, should be produced at a theater dedicated to playwrights, and directed by one of the hottest young playwright-directors in town.

Until June 18 ( 224 Waverly Place, between Perry and W. 11th streets, 212-868-4444).


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