“It’s your choice”

Sarah Weddington (Kelley Peters) says this to Norma McCorvey (Teresa Zimmermann) at a pizza place in Dallas. Weddington needs McCorvey’s consent to represent her and bring her case before a state court — a case that could possibly go to the U.S. Supreme Court. Over beer and thin crust, the foundation on what would later be known as Roe v. Wade was laid.

Though the two sit forever together in annals of history, their relationship unravels quickly after the initial meeting and they journey in starkly different directions. Weddington becomes a famed lawyer, known forever as the woman who argued the abortion rights case.  McCorvey, who after years of pro-abortion work, famously converted to Christianity and began speaking publicly against abortion.

How did the two go in such different paths? Stages’ production of Roe, written by Lisa Loomer, offers multiple possibilities for how and why. Directed cautiously by Kim McKean, Roe offers a compassionate portrayal of Norma McCorvey — the woman who many of us know only as Jane Roe. McCorvey is a poor white woman who at 22 already has two kids of whom she doesn't have custody and is looking for an abortion. Weddington is a fresh graduate from the University of Texas- Austin's law school looking to make her mark in a predominantly male field.

Weddington's ambition and drive contrasts with McCorvey's more "loosey goosey" approach to life. Peters plays Weddington like the sharp and acute Southern woman Weddington portrays in her memoir. Her pristine posture and slickly coiffed hair conflicted drastically with the more slovenly McCorvey. Peters brings a taut edge to Weddington that highlights the archetypically classic Southern woman-both dignified and never a hair out of place.

Zimmerman's McCorvey brings spunk and eclectic energy with an unpredictability and frenetic bent to her portrayal which is thrilling to watch. She's always in internal turmoil despite seemingly being confident and acerbic.

The two are oil and water and their stories together highlight the arguments of abortion more than words do in this production.

The play illuminates when Weddington and McCorvey fight to tell their stories and present their version of what had happened to the audience. When they argue about how pregnant McCorvey is at their first meeting or if Weddington tells McCorvey whether the case will be over in time for her to have the abortion, it shows the fragility of recounting historical events and how memories change. The most relevant lie is the one of omission.

McCorvey never gets her abortion. The court proceedings last longer than nine months; however, years earlier, Weddington traveled to Mexico to get an abortion. Why didn't she tell McCorvey when McCorvey was in desperate need? The conflict between Weddington and McCorvey boils down to McCorvey being a poor white woman and Weddington more privileged, educated and connected.

When Weddington argues at the Supreme Court, she never mentions Norma. Never opines on Norma McCorvey's absence. In fact, McCorvey claims she wasn't even invited to hear the case. She was never invited to any of the hearings. Weddington wants to win the case, but McCorvey doesn't realize until much later that she's been used for a greater cause.

Zimmermann clearly conveys the weariness of McCorvey's life — one with multiple heartbreaks and traumas.

In the conflict between McCorvey and Weddington, the question of those who advocate for abortion and those who in desperate measure need the abortions becomes clearer. Women like Weddington were getting abortions despite the procedure being illegal while women like McCorvey had to carry the child to term.

Without the McCorvey and Weddington dynamic, the story seems to lose its conviction as it leans away from reproductive rights in the first act to more of a biographical depiction of McCorvey's life, postponing  the decision for Act Two. It's in Act Two that it becomes clear that while the play is Roe, the story prefers Weddington's clear advocacy for a woman's right to choose rather than McCorvey's amorphous and tenuous relationship with abortions.

In Act Two, McCorvey is no longer anonymous, achieving a certain amount of fame under her own name. Eventually she goes to work for a pro-choice clinic when Operation Rescue, an anti-abortion group, moves in next door. McCorvey begins interacting with Emily (Hazel Egging), the eight-year-old daughter of a Christian volunteer, and Flip Benham (Foster Davis), the anti-abortion pastor who calls McCorvey a murderer at their first meeting. The tender moments where Benham shares his weakness with alcohol and Emily speaks kindly to her break through McCorvey's bravado. Though the warmth and kindness seem genuine, once again, maybe they were using McCorvey for their own means.

When McCorvey eventually converts, it seems genuine but then a few doubts are cast as to whether she did it for disingenuous means. Did McCorvey become an anti-abortion activist in another attempt for fame? McCorvey has a history of people using her. Is she finally using them? McCorvey's radical shift from helping those in need to advocating against abortion's existence deserves more interrogation. To chalk it up as a shift for personal ambition seems haphazard.

It's pretty clear where the playwright, artistic team and a vocal portion of the audience stand on the issue.  While Roe wants to tell us about the woman known as Jane Roe, it wants to protect and advocate for the ruling of Roe v. Wade even more.

The decision to end the play with Weddington and not McCorvey is a bold choice for a play called Roe. When McCorvey in Act 2 shouts to Weddington "that you didn't [care] about Roe the person- all you cared about was Roe the case," it's obvious that McCorvey knows that the case has become bigger than her own individuality.

How would the play be different if rather than choosing to end with Weddington encouraging the audience to get involved and participate in human rights, it was McCorvey, the born-again Christian and anti-abortion supporter who delivers the final statement? Is the voice wanting change those of the Weddingtons in the world or of the likes of McCorvey? Which ones do we take seriously in the theater?