Vote or Yawn

The most surprising thing about The Body Politic, currently playing at 59E59 Theaters, is that it took two people to write: Richard Abrons and director Margarett Perry. A lightweight diversion about two political advisers on opposite sides who fall in love, The Body Politic was funnier when it was called Speechless, and starred Michael Keaton and Geena Davis.

There are amusing moments to be had, and the six actors, under Perry’s direction, are having fun with their prickly politico characters. But the presence of political power couple James Carville and Mary Matalin hangs over the proceedings like a ghost. Perry and Abrons try to circumvent comparisons by drawing attention to it themselves, but they reference the duo so often that Carville and Matalin might as well be on the cover of the program.

The bold choices that might have differentiated the play from the usual liberal vs. conservative arguments aren’t to be found here. Republican Spencer (Matthew Boston) and Democrat Trish (Eve Danzeisen) both work for male candidates; they’re both straight; they both hold to the usual arguments of American politics, from religion to abortion.

But for two hours, Spencer and Trish play sexual operatives, fighting their real attraction to one another by couching it in terms of espionage. They’re determined to take their candidate to the White House, and the gloves come off by play’s end, much to the fury of their fellow campaigners Brunhilda (Leslie Hendrix) and Victor (Michael Puzzo). Alas, Abrons and Perry miscalculate egregiously when it comes to Brunhilda, writing her a wearying, unceasing stream of snappy oneliners, and constructing tangled insults that aren’t quite worth the effort Hendrix invests in them. Sample: "You can forget about me except to wonder where I am keeping your jar." "What jar?" "The one that will be holding your balls!" Hendrix has aplomb to spare, but the character is so one-note that we dread hearing what she has to say next.

Actors Daren Kelly and Brian Dykstra, as the conservative and liberal candidates, respectively, barely register; they’re both equal parts bland charm and smarmy machinations. For a play about a presidential campaign, the nominees are oddly unmemorable.

Better written are Spencer and Trish, particularly their seduction scene. Just who is seducing whom is unclear, but Spencer turns it into a sexy strip game as they each name a renowned liberal or conservative, and remove an article of clothing. Watching them verbally thrust and parry is a refreshing change from listening, once more, to the argument regarding abortion.

Perry keeps things moving, aided by Timothy R. Mackabee’s all-purpose office set (mini blinds have never been so versatile) and the hard work of unobtrusive stagehands. The heavy-handed sequences are dispensed with swiftly—notably the entire, off-putting opening scene, which doesn’t introduce the six characters as much as throw them at you with a shrug, as if it say, "Keep up or get out"—and Perry smartly highlights the growing pushpull attraction between Spencer and Trish.

No new ground is being trod here, but for anyone who likes his politics with a side of sexual tension (which is most politicians, come to think of it), The Body Politic is a perfectly pleasant trifle.

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The Body Politic
through March 6
59E59 Theaters, 59 E. 59th St. (betw. Park & Madison Aves.), 212-279-4200; $35.