Jane Anderson: Sex and Class in The Escort
by Deborah Behrens | April 5, 2011’Tis the theatrical season for high-end call girls. First a 16th century Venetian courtesan named Veronica in Dangerous Beauty and now the Manhattan-based Charlotte in the premiere of Jane Anderson’s The Escort on April 6 at the Geffen Playhouse.
Anderson, an award-winning playwright/director/screenwriter, says she somewhat facetiously subtitled her erotically charged show, “An Explicit Play for Discriminating People,” so audience members who prefer to identify with “high-end naughty things” would take a look.
“People want to know if something is for me because I’m sophisticated,” smiles the carrot-topped Anderson one afternoon at the Geffen. “It’s like a well-packaged cigarette with expensive looking wrappers. People like their porn ““ a certain class of people — like their porn expensively wrapped.”
In The Escort, expensive-to-hire Charlotte becomes the new patient of Upper West Side gynecologist Rhona, a divorcee who lives with 13-year old son Lewis and whose practice resides in the same building as that of her former husband Howard, a urologist. Rhona finds her liberal beliefs challenged by Charlotte’s seemingly uninhibited and self-empowered “lifestyle,” while she struggles to allow her son the freedom to explore his budding sexuality in an era of uncensored Internet porn.
The cast features Maggie Siff (Sons of Anarchy, Mad Men) as Charlotte, Polly Draper (thirtysomething) as Rhona, James Eckhouse (90210) as Howard and Gabriel Sunday (My Suicide) as Lewis/Matthew. Lisa Peterson, who recently helmed In Mother Words at the Geffen’s Audrey Skirball, directs the show.
“I’m pretty conservative in my sexual tastes,” admits Anderson, who is married to Tess Ayers, her partner of 29 years. “That’s why I needed to write the play. Being a liberal woman who grew up in the ’70s, I was part of the sexual revolution and witnessed it. But because I’m monogamous and we also have a 16-year-old son, I can only go so far. I wanted to find out why I was built my way and why other people are able to be very sexually free.”
The Escort was a Geffen commission as was Anderson’s last production, The Quality of Life, which won a 2009 Ovation Award for Best New Play. Looking for Normal, her first Geffen world premiere, also won the 2001 Ovation Award for Best New Play. She went on to write and direct its screen adaptation Normal starring Jessica Lange and Tom Wilkinson for HBO, garnering six Emmy, three Golden Globe, DGA and WGA nominations. Other published plays include The Baby Dance, Defying Gravity, Smart Choices for the New Century, Lynette at 3am and The Last Time We Saw Her.
Anderson received an Emmy, WGA and PEN Center USA Award for her teleplay for HBO’s The Positively True Adventures of the Alleged Texas Cheerleader-Murdering Mom starring Holly Hunter. Other television films include When Billie Beat Bobby and the adaptation of her play The Baby Dance, which won a Peabody Award, plus three Golden Globe and four Emmy nominations. She wrote and directed If These Walls Could Talk 2, which also earned multiple Emmy nominations. Other screenplay credits include How to Make an American Quilt and It Could Happen to You.
“In The Quality of Life I was writing about red state versus blue state, Northern California versus the Midwest,” she explains. “In a way, this [The Escort] is the same structure because it’s sex workers and sexually conservative people. I think there is a divide, especially in this country, of sexual tastes. Those who feel utterly free to explore and those who do not.”
Anderson says she chose monogamy in order to build a history with one person. She believes people like her, with “a liberal bent but traditional taste in sex,” can find the other world somewhat frightening. Or can be made to feel like “a dip” if they aren’t more sexually hip — which is how one producer made Anderson feel during a past project. Both sides of the sexual spectrum tend to shame their twin opposites. The only shared middle ground is how to educate offspring with budding hormones.
“What are our boundaries, especially if you’re a parent?” Anderson posits. “You start to form boundaries you didn’t have when you were younger and single. You didn’t have to worry about what your child was learning about in the sexual world. Now because of the Internet everything is so available to a kid’s eyes. As you go from childhood through adolescence, you have to be exposed to sex in stages. If you’re exposed too quickly to certain things, it’s damaging.”
In the play, Rhona and ex-husband Howard tackle that very issue with their barely teenage son Lewis, who is avidly trolling the web to expand his budding sexual Wikipedia. He informs the audience directly of each graphic discovery while denying such daily forays to his exasperated parents.
“As my son grows up, my job as a parent has not only been to regulate what he’s exposed to but at the same time make sure he feels no shame,” offers Anderson. “That’s another thing the play is about — it’s that struggle of “˜I don’t want to repress your sexual feelings.’ I don’t want to make anybody feel ashamed of what they do in bed. It’s crushing when you want to be sexual and someone calls you dirty or what you like is wrong. But it’s not for me. That’s the push and pull. I think that’s what’s going to happen to the audience as they watch this play and why it’s exciting theater.”
When she was fleshing out the piece, Anderson says she chose to make the lead characters a gynecologist and an escort because she wanted two people from opposite sides of the spectrum who need something from each other and whose meeting initially offers each a potential new friendship.
“I wanted an educated liberal,” she explains. “I thought Upper West Side, perfect, because as an Upper West Sider, you’re trained to be tolerant. And a gynecologist is someone who deals with the vagina on a medical-birth level, a reproductive level, which is very different from the sexual level. I liked the symbolism of that. I think gynecology is fascinating because you’re dealing with the part of the body where life comes from but also where shame comes from.
“Charlotte, my escort woman, is yearning for contact with intelligent women. She wants a friendship. She wants to cross the border to the legitimate world. Charlotte is extremely intelligent and emotionally intelligent. I imagine if you are a high-end call girl and you have that kind of intelligence, it must be a deeply lonely profession because you can’t have any close girlfriends unless they’re other hookers. I wanted to tap into that loneliness and the need to connect.”
Anderson says the divide between the two worlds is still very apparent in Hollywood today. “There are people in the porn industry who’ll never be able to cross over because there’s a taint. It doesn’t matter how liberal a Hollywood agent, director or producer is, they don’t want to touch people who’ve done porn. There’s just repulsion there. So this piece is about class as much as it is about sex. I think it’s more about class in a way.”
Theater vs. Cable
Given Anderson’s successful television and film credits, why not just write this piece for HBO? Because of theater’s immediacy and the availability of direct address, which her characters employ to great comic effect?
“Cable has a policy that sex and language and violence is not only okay, it’s required,” she notes. “I find that boring. Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should. Then it’s overload and it’s about shock value rather than drama or art. So if this were on cable, I don’t think it would be really anything new. But in theater, it is new.
“I don’t think something like this has really been explored. The discomfort the audience may feel watching this will be much more provocative than if they were watching it on cable, where they expect it.”
Despite the subject material, the play doesn’t employ nudity to tell the story. Specially designed “naked suits” cover the actors in critical areas, which Anderson thinks is essential to keeping the audience focused on the point she’s making rather than the actors’ personal equipment.
“The naked suits allow the audience to experience the play rather than worry about what the actors look like,” she explains. “The screen is different because you can control the camera. The audience feels safe because they know the camera won’t show you certain things. But as soon as you take clothes off a living actor in the theater, it’s very hard for an audience to see them as the character. It becomes personal — big penis, small penis, will he get hard accidentally, that actress, her breasts or her pubic hair.”
Anderson strongly believes nudity on stage breaks the fourth wall. “I think it really breaks it badly. It doesn’t matter how intelligent or literary you are, you can’t help staring at a naked body because that’s the way we’ve been brought up. We’re not in a culture where nudity is an everyday thing. It has its place if that’s what the performance piece is trying to do. Like Julian Beck’s Living Theatre. There’s a reason for that. But if you’re trying to do a kitchen-sink play, it doesn’t work.”
A Theatrical Home
Anderson directed her last outing at the Geffen, The Quality of Life, starring Laurie Metcalf, JoBeth Williams, Dennis Boutsikaris and Scott Bakula. Most of the cast went on under Anderson’s guidance to repeat their roles at San Francisco’s American Conservatory Theater. Lisa Peterson staged a subsequent run at Arena Stage with new actors. The two have known each other for years with Peterson directing other Anderson shows like Tough Choices for a New Century. What made her turn the helm over to her old pal this time out?
“I think it’s much easier on me to have another director,” answers Anderson. “Lisa’s really gifted and I like collaborating. I just love her work and I trust her. I started directing because I had a few directors along the way who just didn’t get my work. But Lisa gets it and I now have the leisure to really work on the script. For a brand new play you really need to. I’d love to direct but it’s too much on my shoulders.
“I like her eye because she has pulled me back from ripping up parts of the script. She’s an incredible dramaturge. I’m super-critical of myself and if I’m stuck on something, she knows how to guide it. She knows how to talk to actors in a way that their impulses don’t get repressed but they’re guided to where they need to go.”
In a previous LA STAGE Times interview, Laurie Metcalf said of Anderson: “Jane floats real easily between comedy and tragedy. I love her writing. She has surprises and turns corners that you don’t expect. You’re always amazed at the amount of humor she can get out of these difficult subjects she tackles.”
“God, that’s beautiful,” replies the playwright quietly after hearing her friend’s praise. As to the secret of crafting her particular theatrical blend, she quips, “Oh, I just know I need to write about something. In this case, I knew I wanted to write about what it’s like to be a middle-aged liberal with a son and being confronted with the other world. Then I put characters into places that will force the drama. After that, it’s just years of making mistakes in my office until I get it right.”
Anderson is among a rare breed of writers/directors who move fluidly between theater and TV. She was a writer for the second season of Mad Men and is currently working on two pilots: one for HBO and one for STARZ. What compass does she use to navigate between them?
“I’m really, really blessed,” she admits. “I skip mediums because if I get beaten up in one, I just go to the other. I’ve had to flee theater when critics have closed my plays with vicious reviews. That’s happened to me. So then I say okay, I’ll take a break from this and I’ll go to film.”
When asked which play she’s referring to, Anderson replies, “The Baby Dance, when it went to New York. Frank Rich gave it such a vicious scathing review it closed in a week. The Quality of Life was on a path to New York but the Washington Post critic killed it. It happens to all of us. Where you get hit on the head and then you’ve a choice of either retreating to your bed for five months or creating. And my philosophy is I won’t allow anybody to keep me from expressing myself. It’s just a rule.
Anderson remembers sitting with Broadway producer Emanuel Azenberg when Rich dismissed The Baby Dance. “He said, “˜You know, Paddy Chayefsky got a really bad review and he never wrote another play again.’ That’s when I said to myself that would never happen to me. So I immediately wrote another play. It wasn’t a good play but I wrote it and it got done at Williamstown. I don’t like the play very much but I got back on.”
As for what guidelines she follows or offers to playwrights who want to get produced, she responds: “I write four-character plays now. You do have to be savvy about that. Also, I don’t believe in a huge cast unless you’re writing for a rep company where they have a whole bunch of people who just want to work. I don’t like to write a tiny crappy little role for an actor so that they have to sit around backstage and you have to do a whole salary. The beauty of film is you can have walk-ons, you know, fascinating characters. They’re a day player –they have a day of shooting and that’s it. So you can texture your film with wonderful characters. But in a play I think you need to use all resources well. Every character you write should have a beautiful arc and a lot of stage time.”
Anderson calls the Geffen her “creative home” and is grateful for the opportunity to workshop and produce her work there. “I trust the Geffen,” she admits. “I trust bringing in early work here because they don’t judge. They see the potential and encourage it. That’s what you need as a writer. As someone who’s written in television and film, you can get battered with notes and it can make your little ears retreat. I’m having such a wonderful time. This is like a beautiful warm bath working with this cast. They’re incredible and it’s just been a wonderful experience. You don’t get those a lot, so I’m just enjoying it.”
Anderson thinks the true test of her show will reveal itself in the Ginny Mancini Bathroom. “I can’t wait to go into the ladies’ room at intermission and listen to the women. That’s what good theater should do. Theater should get you arguing and talking during intermission and at the end of the play. You know you have a bomb on your hands if people walk out and they start talking about where they’re going to go out to dinner or what they’re going to do tomorrow. It means they’ve had a cultural experience and nothing else.
“If I’m going to put on a play and go to all the trouble of getting people in a room to witness something, I want those people to be able to engage on a very visceral, emotional and moral level.”
**All Production Photos by Michael Lamont
The Escort opens April 6; plays Tue.-Fri., 8 pm; Sat., 3 and 8 pm; Sun., 2 and 7 pm; through May 5. Tickets: $47-$77. Geffen Playhouse, 10886 Le Conte Ave., Los Angeles; 310.208-5454 or www.geffenplayhouse.com.
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