A bowl full of naked feminism

March 23, 2010
by


"The Soup Show," the New York Neo-Futurists' latest full-length show, is a whirling circuit through the feminist movement that uses some interesting tactics to get our attention. These tactics include a hearty sprinkling of sarcasm, a pinch of misogyny and three very naked women.

Writer/actors Desiree Burch, Cara Francis and Erica Livingston, who call themselves Neos, bring their intimate experiences with sexuality, motherhood, and — gasp! — singledom to the show. It's mostly a conversation, but it also turns into a sort of circus sideshow, complete with a bevy of freaks — The Conjoined Twin, The Human Pincushion, The Three-Headed Woman. At the end, faux-medicinal remedies (bottled from the titular soup) are handed out to audience members.

"We knew we were gonna be making a product from our bodies in this soup," Francis said.

They considered actually serving the soup, even though several inedible "ingredients," such as Lysol, find their way into the brew — but they finally landed on the medicine trope. Will the bottles cure our freakishness — the freakishness we all share as imperfect people with imperfect bodies? We're left wondering, and that's entirely the point.

For Burch, the similarities between freaks and feminists are clear.

"There is something aligned...in taking control of your own deformity, of your own disadvantage," she said. "There's [also] something simultaneously neurotic about calling your thing out before someone else does."

A major question was how the audience would react to the women's naked bodies. The team worked together to decide when to present their bodies as intensely sexual and when to present them as art. Even though they're very much in control of their own naked forms, all three admit to still feeling the weight of social mores — and the occasional urge to pee.

There was always a possibility that the actors could have found themselves resisting one another's views and performance choices, but they manage to work together in keen harmony. They call director Lauren Sharpe their editor and lion tamer. She ensures that, even though the audience is aware of all three women's voices, two "disappear" into the background when the other is sharing a personal story.

"It textures the show in a really nice way," Sharpe said.

Sharpe, also a Neo, used her background in dance and women's studies to craft a cohesive whole from the performers' narratives, and the 30 hours of interviews they conducted during their research. She achieves her goal of retaining each woman's voice as the show changes both its subject matter — Livingston's segment, for instance, is devoted to pageant life — and its style.

One thing that really grounds the women, aside from their complete joy in sharing this celebration with the audience, is the knowledge that the worst possible thing that could have happened has already occurred: At one performance, a gentleman in the front row was pleasuring himself while they presented their segment on marriage and "other halves." Francis was "a rockstar" in her response, seamlessly kicking him out without disturbing the rest of the audience. Now, all four wear the experience like a badge of pride.

"He thought he was coming to see something that had a fourth wall," Sharpe said of their would-be disturber. "Bitch, we don't have a fourth wall!"

"The Soup Show" plays at HERE Arts Center (145 Sixth Ave.) through March 27. Purchase tickets ($18) at here.org. Wednesday nights are spin-the-wheel (pay from $11-18), and if you want to organize a talkback after your show, e-mail cara@nynf.org.