It’s likely that audiences have a certain type of play in mind with a show called Collective Rage: A Play in 5 Betties, about a mostly queer-centric group of women who transform through friendship and art.
We’re here to tell you it’s not that kind of play. It’s not preachy or political, overly earnest or unyieldingly ire-filled or whatever other label you incorrectly gleaned from the title/description.
It’s none of those things.
But what the play actually is defies easy definition. Like a one-woman band playing multiple incongruous instruments to form a unique harmony, Collective Rage is a smoothie of tones so thoroughly whipped that it froths over. Sarcastic and witty, then over-the-top outrageous. Poignant and insightful, tremendously base but then deeply cutting. Smartly meta and yet whackadoodle-doo.
It’s all those things and more and it’s a total riot.
Written by Jen Silverman in 2016 (and yes, it’s aged well), Collective Rage concerns five diverse women, all named Betty. Two are married. Betty #1 (Sammi Sicinski) has wealth, power and rage but not the love of her cheating husband. Betty #2 (Samantha Walker) is prudish, sheltered, dismissed and lonely, with no friends to speak of. Betty #3 (Jeana Magallon) has sworn off dating women, believing that only celebrity and the love of her fans will fill her heart. Betty #4 (Cindy Wang) is in unrequited love with Betty #3, whom she’s known since childhood. Betty # 5 (Nonie Hillard) plays the field with multiple women, never getting emotionally attached.
Yes, these women are unapologetically archetypes, but what Silverman does with them is quite unexpected and individualistic.
Hailing from different worlds, circumstances and sexual identities, the Betties come together via absurdist dinner parties, boxing lessons and genital revealing handheld mirrors (expect to hear the word pussy a million times during the show), all of which play out in surprising ways.
Take the handheld “let’s look at our pussy” mirror moment. A scene that’s become boringly cringe-worthy from how many similar iterations we’ve seen on stage and film over the years. Yet here it feels freshly interesting thanks to Betty #2’s reaction and then obsession with what she sees. This ain’t a hold hands and praise the goddess moment. Or an excuse to make lewd jokes. It’s way more feminist than that. Silverman allows this Betty to be as all-consuming obsessed with her pussy as any man is with his penis. Take that!
What really cements the group together is showbiz. After Betty #3 sees a famous play she incorrectly calls “Summer’s Midnight Dream,” where they “speak English but not the kind anyone can understand,” she becomes smitten with how adored the actors were, how everyone clapped for them—the $89 ticket price.
The “theatuh,” she declares, is for her and she proceeds to cast all the Betties in her devised show based on what she saw. Well, based on the show-within-the-show she saw, that was, according to her, the best part. A delicious wink to Shakespeare and a meta love letter to the pretensions of the stage in general.
A devised show in the hands of this crew means barely thought through. Roles and billings change like the tides and the parts themselves are as ridiculous. But with each Betty having the opportunity to write some of their own lines, the women get to think about and speak their truths in some form or another.
To describe what they eventually say and how they arrive at their revelations would spoil the best moments of the show. But we can tease you by saying that the play contains the most disturbingly funny use of a Google-eye hand puppet, a hella-sexy try-on of men’s suits and a perfectly unfussy blunt moment that wins the day.
But even with all these jewels baked into the cake of Silverman’s script, it’s apparent that in the wrong hands, this is a show that can go very far off the rails. Lean into the camp too hard and you lose the meaning. Veer deeply into the emotional moments and you stifle the funny.
Director Rhett Martinez falls into none of these traps. His is an attuned balance between the sweet, sorrowful and salty elements of this script – allowing all emotions breathing room and time to unfold. Nothing is rushed or played for effect and it’s his best effort to date, helped greatly by a cast obviously committed to every mood swing presented.
As Betty #1, Sicinski channels a scorned woman’s rage righteously. But it’s her deadpan delivery of lines such as, “I’m very rich, very powerful, very gluten free, very vegetarian, very alcoholic and very angry,” that shows off her comedic control.
As Betty #2, Walker has the most transformative role. A big swing, if you will, played with great gusto. But it’s her more subtle steps that really show off her talent. Walker’s monologues, filled with pain and humor and WTF-ness, nearly steal the show thanks to the elegant care she applies. Then watch her in the final scene where she shows off another heretofore unknown talent.
Magallon as Betty #3 is all charisma, sass and the frustratingly bombastic self-confidence of someone lacking full grasp of the information. Hers is a vanity role and she plays it like a maestro. Watch her strut. See her boss the others around. Aggrandize herself. Eventually she’ll let down her guard and show underbelly – but we’re here for the sparkle she exudes.
Betty #4 is the unsung hero of the bunch. Not flashy, overly tragic or unique. She’s just a gal with a crush on her friend who doesn’t give her the time of day. It’s a role that could be easily pushed to the sidelines if not for Wang’s naturalistic and easy cadence. It’s easily the most graceful performance of the bunch.
And then there’s Betty #5. No matter your sexual preference, I dare you not to be seduced by Hillard. My God, the hotness exuded in this performance, yowza! Kinda like a young, gender queer, not-yet-woke Bruce Springsteen working on his truck, Hillard talks about all the pussy she takes down. Get and get out, she says. But when she falls, and falls hard, Hillard’s change in tone makes the situation even steamier.
Collective Rage is the start of Mildred’s Umbrella’s 25th season and the beginning of the 26/27 theater season in Houston. With a show this cleverly fresh, wonderfully executed and just darn fun, it’s a high bar set for what’s to come. We may not hear the word pussy again on the stage in the ensuing months, but here’s hoping we get this brand of big pussy energy from the shows ahead.
Collective Rage: A Play in 5 Betties continues through September 19 at Spring Street Studios, 1824 Spring Street. For more information, visit mildredsumbrella.com. Pay What you Can.
