Broken Eggs

Rape is a subject that is often politicized to the point where real life seems unimaginable. And because the political conversation ignores the personal, it stays explicitly removed from the direct experiences of women. Broken Eggs performed with Bad Theater Fest, written by Amy Gijsbers van Wijk and directed by Gretchen Van Lente, addressed the trauma that raped women face, and what happens when that leads to pregnancy, then abortion.

Lights up and alone, Anastasia Bell stood center stage. “I had an abortion.” These words were the first uttered as the lights came up around her. What followed was a stream of conscious, a lightening fast round of words that could easily seem like gibberish. Instead it was an insight into the brain of someone who had been fractured by a multiplicity of  expectations, none of which a person could meet. Anastasia was at turns bitter, haunted, and terrified. The text met the actor in a unique way that let the audience realize that what they were witnessing was not a narrative piece, but a instead one that let us see into the mind of this woman. As well the word association moments enhanced the feeling of claustrophobia that she must have been feeling. Suffering from the words that hurt her from “slut” to “cumbucket” to “deserved.” Words spewed out of Anastasia’s lips that did not require a story, the word’s tone themselves told of our world which demonizes women.

Subsequently there was the introduction of a man, played by Walter Petryk, who seemed to have been her rapist. Her rapist who stayed in her life, up to the point where he returned the cradle for the child (a revelation met with huge resentment by the woman). Later he transforms into the doctor treating her so that she can induce an abortion. Petryk filled both characters with condescension and pomposity appropriate to the symbols he portrayed. As well, by having the two men played by the same actor it forced the audience to confront widespread toxic masculinity that is never taught to treat women as human beings.

In the doctor scene a second woman, played by Keelie Sheridan, was also introduced. Sheridan had the task of portraying a woman completely disconnected from her reality. She enters with empty arms, referring to a child who she doesn’t believe to be her own. She stood as a mirror to Bell’s character, as they both dealt with their past in the uncertain present. Quickly within her first scene though the main woman passes out, and she is left next to the doctor. This scene serves to show how disconnected men in positions of power can be from those surrounding them. Though this is effectively communicated, the scene detracted from the main woman’s narrative. 

Weaved throughout the piece were moments of complete abstraction. Both women had times where they’re interacting with non-existent (or non-present) children. The main woman is seen playing with the child she never had, and the woman portrayed by Keelie Sheridan mimed rocking a child whom she meant to abort. These purely physical interactions with empty space showcased how lives can be lived in the multiple. There is a person’s reality, and the life that could have been. The child that could have been, the child that could not have been. And by including these moments of non-interaction the audience was beckoned to have empathy for the harsh situations and decisions that these women have to live with on a day-to-day basis. Their rape, and their abortions can not be completely in the past. It lives within them.

Gretchen Van Lente’s direction was powerful. Not only did it fully incorporate the surrealism of the play, but she steeped it within current pop culture context. In the beginning blackout “Blurred Lines” began to play, and made two other appearances. The production found a balance between interacting with the play’s spiraling nature, and reminding the audience of the present impact of victim blaming, misogyny, and the dehumanization of women.