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Arts & Entertainment

Shadow Woman‘s Horror Affirms Real Life For Women, In All The Ages Of Weinstein

Are you scared? Me, too, says Claire Carson's motherly ghost.
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Lyndsay Knecht

Shadow Woman is on at Bath House Cultural Center Thursday through Saturday until Oct. 28th. 

A small audience listened to the Chromatics’ version of “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” in a makeshift bedroom with the lights still up. White Rock lake was very dark and just a stone’s throw away. Shadow Woman was a few minutes to open.

As ticket holders put their phones up, their feeds were steadily commanded by the experiences of women who’ve been abused and harassed by men. This breaking of silence was inspired by actresses like Ashley Judd and would-be recruits like Emily Nestor who came forward in a New York Times report published October 5 about the ways Hollywood executive Harvey Weinstein used his power to proposition or hurt them and his money to keep them quiet.

The world that took over the space at the lowest level of Bath House Cultural Center belonged to 17-year-old Arrah (Bella O’Brien) who still leaves voice messages for her late mom until the mailbox is full. But her mother is not the ghost playwright Claire Carson drew to visit Arrah and Dad (Stan Graner) in the home they’ve moved into. It’s Shadow Woman (Hannah Weir), the nightgown-clad spirit of a woman who came of age in the late 1950s and wrote about her disillusionment, and then searing pain, as her husband’s controlling behavior turned into physical abuse.

Arrah and her best friend Rachel (Dakota Ratliff) find the diary and, to intercept their discovery and Shadow Woman‘s truth-telling, the ghost of her husband (Man, played by Nick Riley) shows up. He possesses Arrah’s dad with a disease of anger and contempt that compels him to do things the lovable guy would never, ever do normally. When we meet him he’s cracking IKEA jokes and lovingly cooking bad pasta as he tries to keep it together for his daughter. Later in the play, with a hand of Man on his back, he belittles Arrah in unspeakably sad ways and slams her against the floor.

 

Moments of relief in the play are short; moments of clarity abound. This  interview with the playwright has been lightly edited. There are spoilers, and triggers for survivors of sexual assault or physical abuse. 

 

 

D: The timing of the opening is not notable because the Weinstein news taught us anything new, but because of how crushingly often stories of sexual abuse and harassment are surfacing right now. Were any finishing touches or last minute decisions influenced by the mindset you could anticipate people being in when seeing the play?

Carson: Not many of them were made based on that but I definitely was thinking about it a lot, because this play, for me, isn’t complete. I wanted to see it as it’s written right now, but I think there are going to be adjustments and changes. So it definitely influenced how I’m going to move forward, just push more into the things that feel uncomfortable for people to watch or see. Like initially Arrah’s dad takes her pants when he spanks her, and we decided not to do that. But I kind of wish we would have, in a way because people need to see that really terrible, graphic stuff, if that makes sense.

D: It does. It took a moment for me to ingest that image, actually. And thinking about how Arrah and Rachel were horrified as they read  Shadow Woman’s diary of her husband’s abuse – a lot of times we read honest writing by women in letters or diaries from her generation, before the time when what’s dismissed now as “confessional writing” was published to reach more readers. I’m wondering how you saw the diary form in the play as important.

Carson: Arrah writes in her journal a little bit. But Shadow Woman, that is the only outlet she has at all, like her friends — in my mind the whole society respects this man and so that’s all she has. And, also, for me, I just remember being an undergrad in my directing class feeling like I had no insight or nothing to say and then I would be feverishly scribbling in my notebook, like, this is what I think and feel but I can’t make words out of it like I can’t put it outside my mouth, you know.

D: There’s a real musicality in the script and in the soundtrack – there’s a rhythm even in the way Arrah changes clothes throughout the play. Tell me about your hopes for how the actors would move with the music.

Carson: So I do a lot of sound designing as well, so I kind of wrote the sound design into the play. A lot of time I would have a writer’s block and I would listen to music and would find something and be like, oh, THIS happens next. Music was probably the most helpful thing to me, in writing this play.

With Jenna Richanne Hannum, the director, I talked a lot about the costume changes – its sort of an everyday thing that you do, and also just seeing Arrah’s vulnerable half-naked body is important. Each costume change is harder, doing those everyday normal things. We talked about how it wears her down, doing those everyday things start to wear her down.

The song “Dracula” by the Gorillaz is when you see her going through her routine over and over again. That’s just a song that shows the repetition of her life and how she has to keep doing it, keep going to school, and even though it feels meaningless, she has to do what she has to do.

D: Those segues from her bedroom to the classroom and from haunted-world to settled world are so clear. But there’s still this element of surrealism and absurdity to it. You’ve said the camp and hyper-stylizing in film informed the play. There are so many layers in the references. Like even though The Giant from Twin Peaks seems ambiguously benevolent, I thought of him when I first saw Man and how he presented – because looking at the actor and his thick black glasses it was like, this guy could be a seemingly innocuous fuckboy David Lynch fan.  

Carson: Laughs. I think it’s more interesting to have, like, a Ted Bundy type. Somebody who you want to like. They’re naturally beautiful, handsome, white — is charming, is charismatic, is approachable, is kinda hot. Because that makes life so much easier for him too. We talked a lot about his presence and feeling like he owns whatever space he’s standing in. That’s his, you know. The world is his. There’s no real struggle, he doesn’t have oppression, he doesn’t have hardship. He’s hot, and cool, and good looking and handsome and definitely white.

D: This idea of him being a doctor – did you consider other occupations or did you always know he was going to be a doctor?

Carson: I kind of always knew he would be a doctor. There’s a god complex in being a doctor. That’s how he treats his wife. They come, they save people they’re great. But also they have this power – they could choose not to. Nobody’s going to come out and question that because they’re liked and they’re trusted. Like I was listening to “My Favorite Murder” – it’s an amazing podcast, it’s these two badass feminist comedians who just talk about murder and true crime. It’s really funny. And I was listening to one the other day about this doctor that killed all these old women – so, so many. All these family members who were janitors and had everyday jobs, talked to the police about it. My mom was fine until she came to this doctor. Everything was fine and now she’s dead.

Nobody investigated it and nobody cared.

D: The exchange between Shadow Woman and Arrah isn’t one sided. Like, Shadow Woman isn’t there just to haunt Arrah, Arrah seems to affect her too. Towards the end you see this really emotional exchange where she can’t help but go protect Arrah. How is Shadow Woman more than a ghost?

Carson: Arrah says in her last monologue that she can feel all the smothered woman inside her. In the way that Man is touching and possessing Dad, I think Shadow Woman is doing that in a more caring, gentle way with Arrah. Man is like this bad, possessive force but Shadow Woman is guiding her the whole time, and she touches her at one point and Arrah has the power to kick Dad away.

Women, we nurture each other, and it’s kind of gentle and that’s what sisterhood is. And so I think Shadow Woman is a ghost but she also has autonomy but she’s also there for Arrah the whole time just in a more gentle way.

D: And there’s the sweet cat Lucifer, played by Gracie Odette Cuny. How devastating – it’s just so – this was so, so difficult to watch Arrah bring her out, dead. The physical human body that’s been cuddling her, replaced with an inanimate stuffed cat covered in blood, and that presence is taken. It seems this was of deep significance to you. If you feel comfortable talking about if, in your own life, someone represents that presence —

Carson: — Yes. It’s my cat! I’m a huge introvert and I deal with depression and anxiety pretty hardcore. My cat’s name is Joni and when I don’t want to talk to anybody about anything and I don’t feel like I would be able to get what I need from a human, animals are just there to – it’s like a connection, a real connection and they’re not like listening to your problems – but I have these days where my cat is straight up my best friend. When I feel so lonely and so sad, and I have a dog now too – they can sense that, they have empathy, they can be there for you, I’m a vegetarian and I just super love animals.

D: And the decision to bring the synthetic cat out when it had been a human – it looks like a slipper.

Carson: I ordered a cat replica thing – stuffed-animal type thing – we weren’t totally happy with how it looked. But it was kind of the best option we had, because we wanted to see, when the cat came back out, we wanted to see a cat, to see what it looks like to Arrah. So there were technical things like – oh man if we had a billion dollars it would have gone differently.

D: The effect though of that and the family portrait – the way it looks almost this caricature of a family portrait, all blown out Lifetouch and white – it contributes some kind of loss, of what was real.

Carson: The cat too is the only thing in the play that’s actually fully there for her. She’s got Rachel, and Rachel’s awesome and wonderful but like, preoccupied — but the cat is Arrah’s protector and when the cat dies it’s like, oh, something really has to change. That’s the moment, to me anyway, where it’s like, she can’t just live with this and she can’t just try to accept it anymore.

D: You mentioned Rachel. Personality-wise the chemistry is super interesting. Arrah is patient with her. Arrah’s obviously the smartest person in the play, and she feels that sort of aloneness in having what Rachel calls a “moral compass.” The first discussion that she and Rachel have is about boys and sex, during which Arrah kind of neutralizes Rachel’s anxiety. Why for you was it important for that to be the first interaction they have?

Carson: I don’t know if it was important for it to be their first interaction. But all throughout high school I was so afraid of and uncomfortable about my body and just being a human person who farts and has a period and poops and stuff. I felt like I wasn’t supposed to do those things. And I think a lot of teenage girls feel that way. If you bled when you have sex you’re gross, a guy can’t go down on you because maybe your vagina’s not right. I remember reading an article in Cosmopolitan about what a pretty one looks, what a weird one looks like. When I was young, I was like, Oh my god, my vagina’s fucked up. And we’re just people and your body is not supposed to be this perfect pixie thing. And Rachel is ditsy but she also fucking takes down dad at the end.

D: The coathanger abortion scene: it’s such a gruesome moment and — how to portray it for an audience in a small theater? What went through your mind as you blocked that out?

Carson: The director Jenna, and Hannah, had those conversations. As far as rehearsals went I wanted the cast and the director to – I wanted to see what they did with it and kind of sat back. As far as the writing of it and it being seen is super scary to me. If people are going to become insanely offended that’s when it’s going to happen. I just have to remind myself – no, you don’t have to apologize for this. I have to challenge that in myself and I think Jenna and I both wanted it to be – we even thought about having her sit facing the audience and start with her legs open and doing that. We want people to be uncomfortable and see the reality – this woman has no other options. Even though her husband is a doctor! She has a valid reason to do this and she has no way to take care of it so this is what she has to do. And she has to do it.  And that’s something that scares me in my life all the time with the new healthcare changes that are happening and women’s health is super unimportant to our government – it’s terrible to think about what would happen if you get pregnant, or if you get raped.

D: Who do you most hope comes to this play?

I don’t know. I want everybody – I want all different types of people to come. People who share a similar liberal-ass mindset to me. But my boyfriend’s conservative parents are gonna come. I want those people to find empathy and experience something they’re not aware of.

I had this conversation with this guy. He’s an actor and I was like, “Oh, you should audition for my play!” And he hasn’t even read it, and he was like, “Oh I don’t want to be vilified. I don’t want to audition for a play where men are seen as these terrible monsters.” And I was so frustrated because I was like, that’s not what it’s about. Dad has to fight against that – the effects of the patriarchy.

I don’t think it’s a play that demonizes men in any way. I want that dude to come. I want guys with similar mindsets [to come] that feel right now like the world is against them, because a lot of guys are expressing that feeling right now. It’s not about man-hating – it’s just about, like, this is the reality of our world. I hope anybody can take something out of it. It would be cool [if] this guy who tried to tell me that my play was something that demonized men [came to the play]. I want him to come see it. I want him to understand the experience that I’ve tried to explain to so many men before, that it just is scary to be a woman.

D: Is your dad going to see it?

Carson: My dad is not going to see it but he actually came – he saw a reading of it that we did earlier at Deep Vellum. And that was cool. My dad and I don’t have the [good] relationship that Arrah and her dad have at all but he saw the reading, which was cool.

D: Were you able to have a conversation with him after?

Carson: Yeah. At the risk of getting too deep: we had a really terrible relationship most of my life but it’s getting better. We’re working on it. Him and my sisters and my stepmom all came out to Dallas and visited, they’ve never done that in my life. He really loved it. They all really liked it. It’s funny though because my dad is one of those people who identifies as so liberal and identifies as a feminist but says that bisexuality isn’t real or doesn’t understand trans people or like – shave your legs. I think he sees himself as such an ally – which he is but it’s like – you’re kind of the problem, too. But I don’t think he got that from it. Which is okay.

D: So the work of poet Adrienne Rich is something I thought about a lot –

Carson: I love Adrienne Rich.

D: Her belief is that sexuality is political – in the play there’s this level of heteronormativity. Is there a way for us to live in a world like that and still destroy the force The Man represents?  

Carson: In my mind, Arrah’s just like, queer – you know what I mean – I don’t know why I didn’t decide to go into it. But I feel like this play is about the strict and rigid borders of heteronormative culture and patriarchy. I think Arrah has to be surrounded by the kind of world that she is surrounded by. Once she gets out of high school and she’s on her own and can find a group that fits her and shows her more of the world. In high school you’re so limited. Your worldview is so small I feel like. It all is the way you’re taught it should be.

D: With the Ouija board action – and the reading of the diary – Arrah and Rachel are kind of obsessed. Arrah’s having some sort of a breakthrough and then she wants to pick up the diary and read it again. It’s an interruption. Is there an obsessive aspect to that – when they pick up the diary, are they regresssing?

Carson: I think it’s like a step forward, step back thing. I don’t know if it’s regressing – because its pushing them forward in some kind of way. I think the diary is like a third possessing character almost. There’s the Shadow Woman and The Man but then there’s this diary which is just as present and just as summoning.

D: Do you see yourself more in Arrah, or Rachel?

Carson: Okay, so the conversation between Arrah and Rachel – the sex conversation. Rachel is younger me and Arrah is older me. I’m always pushing to be more of an Arrah. There’s both that exist in me, I feel like I identify now more with Arrah, but Rachel is in so many ways who I was when I was that age. So blinded by [boys and sex.] Do you know what I mean?

D: Yes. Laughs. I noticed how in the monologue at the end there’s a little bit of apologism for Rachel. Arrah says outright that maybe Rachel needs to keep being herself, being boy crazy. It reminded me of how Rookie, for example, tries to separate what is real joy from what we’ve been socialized to be obsessed with.

Carson: I fuck with The Bachelor. I watch shit like that. Those women who are boy crazy or whatever, we have to cut them a break and support them too, you know what I mean? I don’t know. I have hope for Rachel. I have hope for her. She’ll figure it out for herself.

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