SELF DEFENSE, or death of some salesmen
It sounds like the punchline to a joke. Women have murdered in the name of self-defense before, but seven times? Over the course of a single year!? Still, Kreitzer creates a compelling case for her heroine, a trusting, needy, and good-natured woman she calls Jolene Palmer.
Palmer's difficult childhood has left her desperate for love and acceptance, which she seeks from a woman named Lu. Her romantic relationship with Lu, an extremely immature and none-too-bright younger woman, also satisfies Palmer's maternal instincts (she couldn't keep her own child when, as a teenager, she was impregnated by her father's friend). Palmer deludes herself into believing that her devotion is requited and becomes so dedicated to providing for Lu that she begins prostituting herself along I-95.
The play moves like lightning, cutting through a series of brief scenes that illuminate the story in puzzle-piece fashion: a coroner examines a dead body, Palmer talks about her childhood, the police investigate a murder, two exotic dancers relate the strange habits of a particular customer, and so on. We know that Palmer has murdered one of her clients (she admits it to Lu) but Kreitzer leaves a lot to the imagination regarding the circumstances. At first, Self Defense has the feel of a really good Law & Order episode. But eventually more dead men are found, Palmer is caught, and the play becomes more concerned with her personal life and the politics of her situation.
Kreitzer has a statement to make: that women (especially those of lower classes) continue to be abused in society by fathers, lovers, cops, judges, and the press, too. She illustrates the many hypocrisies of the system, pointing out that numerous prostitute murders had gone unnoticed for years while Palmer is martyred for putting up the ultimate defense against the despicable men who tried to harm her. Palmer seems genuinely sorry for what she did; and when, at last, we get a glimpse of how one of those murders unfolded through her harrowing court testimony, she seems completely justified.
Fair enough. Kreitzer seems to understand that there's only so much ground that can be covered in one play and so she concentrates on saying what she wants to say--and she says it very well. Even those who are not inclined to shed tears for a multiple murderer, regardless of the horrors of her childhood, are bound to take Kreitzer's point to heart. Her writing is smart and surprisingly funny, and the stylistic presentation works to excellent effect, thanks to director Randy White.
Best of all, the play is blessed with a phenomenal cast. Lynne McCollough is the standout as Jolene Palmer, bringing a great deal to the role--sincerity, intelligence, a hard-edged sensibility, and humor. The chameleonic supporting cast, who make some fantastically quick costume changes to play a variety of roles, deserve mention: Carolyn Baeumler, Carolyn DeMerice, Melle Powers, Dee Pelletier, Stephen Bradbury, Mark Zeisler, and Dan Illian. Lauren Helpern's set design and Tyler Micoleau's lighting also merit praise.