Bash Compactor: Let’s Get Wet

Written by Joseph Alexiou on . Posted in Bash Compactor, Posts.


A floodgate of female-positive actors and
playwrights was released Monday night at WET (Women’s Expressive
Theater) Productions’ annual LOVE benefit.

The she-thing shebang was held in the The
Angel Orensanz Foundation
on the Lower East Side, and the
organization, founded by Sasha Eden and Victoria Pettibone, awarded
producer Lynda Obst and HBO vice president Maria Zuckerman for
forwarding WET’s mission, to challenge female stereotypes and give
women a voice through the power of media.

“She’s the only person who knows about and uses
phrases like ‘cultural hegemony,’” said movie witch Nora Ephron, presenting
the WET award to Obst.

After a trio of short plays featuring Rosemary DeWitt, Ron
Livingston, Rachel Dratch, Maulik Pancholy
and Zachary Quinto, rows
of chairs were exchanged for café tables, a dance floor and a
breadbox-sized red carpet area. It was while standing on that very
carpet that the dreamy Quinto informed New York Press that his name is
officially pronounced “Kwin-to,” and, exasperated, crinkled his
wonderfully monolithic forehead at our query about the tonguein-cheek
nature of the acronym “WET.”

“Really?” he said, his eyebrows like a constellation.
“Can’t you ask a question about the organization itself?” He was also
surprised that we noticed how much he’s been popping up around town all
of a sudden.

“I
live here now!” he said, chuckling.

“I’ve been here about a month. It’s my favorite city
in the world. Aside from the people I left in L.A., I don’t miss it over
there at all.”

With
a slightly less serious grimace, DeWitt was more open to the idea of a
play-on-words.

“Maybe
they thought that would boost their ticket sales,” she said, with a
glimmer in her eye.

Thank
goodness for 30 Rock’s Pancholy, who was the only actor who could
adequately address the question of wetness (except for his own: his
wettest-ever memory was “my shower, this morning”).

“If it at all makes people
uncomfortable, I think that it’s interesting,” said Pancholy, now
referring to the organization. “I mean, why is women’s sexuality so
scary to certain people? Good for them for putting it out there.”

“It scares the crap out of
me,” I admitted, fidgeting with my expertly tied summer-weight scarf.

“Then,” he said with a
smirk, “you’re going to have a really fun night!”

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