'Machinal' a feminine quest for rest and peace

Woe to every man in Bloomington: a woman is seeking her freedom at the John Waldron Arts Center from the patriarchal shackles of rigid gender role conformity in the misogynist home and glass-ceiling workplace.\nSophie Treadwell's 1928 expressionist production "Machinal," a tragedy in nine episodes directed by Jeremy Wilson, documents the feminine experience of a human being bottled within the technological and motorized confines of the modern-machine world. Treadwell, a journalist-playwright, wrote the script based on the 1927 murder trial of stenographer Ruth Snyder -- the first woman executed in the electric chair for killing her husband. \nWilson's "Machinal" offers Hoosiers of all sex-characteristic concoctions the rare opportunity to view an early 20th Century frame of radical feminist reference. As exemplified in modern pop cultural art like the 1991 film "Thelma & Louise," directed by Ridley Scott, and disdained by feminist-hating poster children like Rush Limbaugh, the moral of the theatrical story projects the belief that a feminine woman does not need a man, a women-dominated occupation, marriage, children or a home to find spiritual happiness in a patriarchal culture.\n"Machinal" offers the viewer, instead, a feminine-psyche perspective and a cultural march for woman's suffrage. Stenographer Helen Jones, played by Phoebe Spier, seems trapped in the role of a typical Barbie doll lubing the masculinity-driven industrial machine from the beginning of the performance. Helen's boss and husband, played by Alex Shotts, provides the audience with adrenaline shots through moments of slapstick where he attempts to "domesticate" his wife's feelings, thoughts and behaviors at work, home and in the bedroom.\nFollowing the so-called American dream continuum of school-work-marriage-children-property-jewels, Mrs. Jones' unwillingness to enjoy her perceived sexual responsibilities and socialized childbearing duties induce the audience to feel frustration, sadness and sickness. Spier's portrayal of Mrs. Jones seems heroic at times as her role demands numerous soliloquies in her underwear that offer the audience a roller coaster of her character's fragile and terrified emotions. \nEpisode one introduces the audience to a capitalist scene of machine screams and busy-bodied workers. Musician Hakan Toker begins the action by playing a piano, and the ensemble of "Machinal" actors joins the symphony of sound created from chit-chat, adding machines and a telephone operator, played by Carrie Owen. Mrs. Jones enters the play in search of hope and happiness. \nMr. Jones promises to fulfill her ambitions and aspirations, although he never asks what the Mrs. wants, what she thinks or how she feels about anything. Episodes two through four, on the other hand, align Mrs. Jones' domesticated nightmare of forced intimacy, persuaded marriage and the expectation of children against Mr. Jones' socialized perception of a blissful union with an otherwise trophy wife. Mrs. Jones' mother, played by Kate Braun, grapples the spotlight from her daughter during episode two and offers the audience reflections on the traditional lifelong expectations of women in the home -- caring for children, cleaning, preparing meals and washing dishes. Shotts' energized masculine portrayal of Mr. Jones also compliments the often dehumanized demeanor of his wife.\nThe audience is also introduced to loose talk about abortions and gay dating in an episode five bar, uncomfortable conversations as often today as yesteryear. "Machinal" plucks the fear-driven strings of masculine dominance inherent in institutionalized and state-supported wife ownership. Episode six reveals Mrs. Jones' willingness to participate in adultery to escape her confinement in traditional modes of married living. \nMrs. Jones' continued affair with her lover, played by Philip Anderson, provides a motive for her husband's murder. Adultery also offers the audience a reason to condemn Mrs. Jones during the play's resolution and an excuse to dismiss Treadwell's feminist plight. Mrs. Jones discovers her sexuality does not need to be locked in a box on the mantel in episode seven, and the freedom she takes into her hands at the end of the scene is used to implode her husband's skull. \nThe ensemble cast guides the play through the remaining two episodes, highlighted by Ross Matsuda's unnerving portrayal of Mrs. Jones prosecutor and Demitrius Welch's boisterous portrayal as her defender in a surreal courtroom scene unveiling the murder scenario to the audience -- "the gentlemen of the jury." The play concludes in darkness following the sound of a pulled switch, prolonging a sigh of relief and breath of fresh air as the audience seeks to reorient themselves with modern life outside the theatre and to dissuade their feelings and thoughts on feminine and masculine disillusionment. \nWilson's direction of "Machinal" seems superb considering the relative lack of production budget, soundtrack mixture of human and machine sounds layering throughout the play and the actors willingness to support and compliment one another while portraying otherwise expressionist-molded characters. The ensemble dialogue blends according to the complexities of the script, and Mrs. Jones offers the audience a spectacle of fanatical feminist perspective.\nTreadwell offers viewers a feminine journey through modern hell rather than a woman's journey from hell. Mrs. Jones claims to seek "rest and peace." Unfortunately, her hell is on earth and the rest and peace she desires is found from the Mr.'s murder and within her death.\n"Machinal" is playing at 8 p.m., May 26 through May 28, and at 2 pm., May 29, at the John Waldron Arts Center. General admission tickets cost $12 and student/senior tickets cost $10. For more information call 334-3100, ext. 102. \n-- Contact Senior Writer David A. Nosko at dnosko@indiana.edu.