New York City
This alternate reality drama is written by Arlene Hutton.
With Roe v. Wade overturned and certain states increasingly criminalizing abortion, it’s likely every American woman, pro-choice or not, has thought about what she would do if she wanted or had to terminate a pregnancy. For many now, it would be a nightmare. Though the actors in Arlene Hutton’s Blood of the Lamb at 59E59 do an admirable job depicting that nightmare, the play has too many contrivances and not enough texture to truly bring it into reality.
Nessa (Meredith Garretson) is brought to what appears to be a conference room in a hospital. Val (Kelly McAndrew) questions her about what she remembers from the last few hours. Nessa only recalls that she was on a plane that landed unexpectedly, and that the baby she is carrying has passed. It turns out she is in a Texas airport, and Val is not a doctor like Nessa first assumed. She is a lawyer assigned to represent her dead child, and, because of new laws, Nessa can’t leave the state without committing a felony.
Once it’s established that Nessa is in legal limbo, the play spins its wheels, searching for ways to heighten the tension. Val gets mired in bureaucracy and missing forms, and when she tries to reach out to her colleagues and the lawmakers for help, she gets nowhere. Both Val and Nessa conclude that the laws were written by stupid men who don’t know what they are doing.
It’s a comforting falsehood for the liberal audience. Though it recalls the confusion at the Mexican border during the Trump administration, it doesn’t ring true when applied to anti-abortion laws. Those who craft conservative legislation are quite skilled at writing laws that directly and indirectly threaten abortion rights. They didn’t bumble into overturning Roe v. Wade, and depictions of anti-choice Republicans as fools is something the pro-choice community should be wary of, not buy into.
If this all sounds a bit confusing, it is. The text goes through hoops and occasionally defies logic to explain why the state will neither allow her to get an abortion nor leave while carrying a dead baby. It also ignores multiple options that Nessa can employ to get out of this situation, like just boarding a plane and getting arrested so she can hire legal representation, or going back to the hospital for an induction, which, by the play’s own logic, would not be breaking any law.
Nessa is depicted as smart and up to date, so it feels contrived that she wouldn’t come up with any of these solutions or be more informed about reproductive rights. The laws talked about in this play, including Texas giving social security numbers to fetuses, would be front-page news all over the country, and someone who is pregnant would likely take note. To be clear, these statutes don’t exist, but some are more extreme versions of laws already on the books – again calling into question why Nessa would be so unaware, since much of the audience will see that parallel. Those who aren’t following the dissolution of reproductive rights are likely to be confused about what is real and not, which, if by design, doesn’t add much to the effectiveness of the show.
It’s unfortunate that the writing doesn’t hold up under inspection because the acting, directing, and other production elements are stellar. Margot Bordelon’s seamless direction adds tension and brings together authentic sets (Andrew Boyce), costumes (Sarita Fellows), and lighting (Amith Chandrashaker). Garretson gives an emotional performance, taking the audience through grief, anger, and confusion. McAndrew gives Val more depth than what’s on the page, and I was hungry for her to go beyond a caricature of a red-blooded Christian with a secret in her past – but the text didn’t give it to her.
The most disappointing part of the play is that Val never challenges the presumably liberal New York audience to sympathize or better understand why this woman in equal intelligence to Nessa could hold views so opposite hers. It doesn’t just weaken the play’s political arguments, it weakens the effectiveness when the sides of a two-hander are so unequal. The two actors are strong enough to make for an engrossing hour of theater, but it’s not enough to overcome the areas where Blood of the Lamb falters.