Lipstick Traces @ Outcry Theatre
—Jill Sweeney
“Dada smashes the world, but the pieces are fine. Each time I ran into Tristan Tzara, he’d say to me: ‘So? You’re picking up the pieces! Do you plan to put them back together?’ I always answered: ‘No – I’m going to finish smashing them’”—Henri Lefebvre, early member of the Dada movement
“Right now
I am an antichrist
And I am an anarchist
Don't know what I want
But I know how to get it…”
I wanna be anarchy
And I wanna be anarchy
Know what I mean?
And I want to be an anarchist
I get pissed, destroy”
--The Sex Pistols, “Anarchy in the U.K.”, Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols. 1977.
The danger of Lipstick Traces, which just concluded its one-weekend run at Outcry Theatre, is the same is its appeal—this thing should not be stageable. Adapted in 1999 by Austin’s Rude Mechs company (from rock critic Greil Marcus’ sprawling 1989 tome Lipstick Traces: A Secret History of the Twentieth Century), the play is a dizzying, sometimes incoherent exegesis positing that the philosophic underpinnings of 16th century Anabaptist John of Leiden, the early 20th-century Dada movement, and the French student riots of May 1968 reached their apotheosis with the advent of the punk rock music scene—most specifically, with The Sex Pistols as led by Johnny Rotten. Confused yet? Why not?
I can’t say this strongly enough: This. Should. Not. Work. But it does.
The show is a thrilling high-wire act, always teetering towards too much or not enough, never falling. And Outcry’s production—their first adult production since the pandemic began –is absolutely fantastic, just jaw-droppingly good. Each cast member is better than the next, which combined with brilliant production design and sharp, powerful direction from Outcry’s Artistic Director Becca Johnson-Spinos makes for a truly memorable theatrical experience. The only bad thing I have to say about this production is that it didn’t run long enough.
I won’t get into the weeds on the show’s plot. Suffice it to say, the show’s Narrator (Jenna Caire) takes the audience through a sweeping, diving, non-linear look at the various philosophical and artistic movements of the 20th century (Dadaism, the Lettrists/Situationists, etc.) that shared a deep well of loathing for their current political situation, and a belief in language’s inability to convey meaning or truth. Drawing these threads together, or so the play posits, is punk rock.
But was punk the final expression of a philosophical movement, or a cynical, capitalistic ploy to monetize rebellion?
Enter Malcolm McLaren (a slithering Ryan Maffei), the self-proclaimed mastermind behind punk rock, who oozes through the production as a smug, smirking counterpoint to Caire’s jittery, precise Narrator. Caught between them is Johnny Rotten (born John Lydon, curiously close to “John of Leiden”—a parallel that draws explicit attention), who is played with the perfect level of stomping, screeching aggression by high school junior Brayden Lawrence. His slightly androgynous, pre-Raphaelite face and huge blue eyes play right into the play’s conception of Rotten as a bit of a puppet, sometimes to McLaren and sometimes to the Narrator. Johnson-Spinos wisely finds moments for each relationship, showcasing a certain tenderness between Johnny and the Narrator, contrasted with the antagonism that duo show towards McLaren.
There are juicy moments for the rest of the cast as well. College sophomore Harrison Polen commands the stage as the heretic John of Leiden in the play’s first moments. Jason Johnson-Spinos (one of Outcry’s founders) gives a lovely, understated performance as French philosopher Guy Debord, whose tweedy exterior conceals his wildly avant-garde artistic sensibilities. His gleeful presentation of one of Debord’s short films, primarily consisting of a black screen, was a comedic highlight. Finn Hardge brought a nice swagger and sneer to his performance as Steve Jones, one of Johnny’s bandmates. Logan Beutel’s controlled descent into chaos as Richard Huelsenbeck, whose speeches on Dadaism tend to devolve into gibberish, was masterful—and exhausting to watch. (Really, the whole cast deserves props for their cardiovascular health, because this show is a WORKOUT. Seriously. At one point Brayden Lawrence did tuck jumps for about a solid minute, and it was all the audience could do not to applaud.)
Design-wise, the show’s a treat as well. The costumes (from designer Katie Guiou) are perfect, with the buttoned-up suits of the 1920s transitioning to the more transitional mid-century style of France in the 1950s and ‘60s, and finally to the ragged jeans and ubiquitous safety pins of the ‘70s. The Narrator’s costume in particular is a brilliant blend of the eras: her formal suit jacket, polka dot cravat and suspenders are accessorized with a giant safety pin in a nod to punk, but with a draped chain evoking the pocket watches of a bygone era—and all this on top of tight plaid pants and Doc Martins. McLaren’s shiny blue suit jacket is another favorite, giving him a certain seedy glamor.
Becca Johnson-Spiros pulls double-duty, not only directing but choreographing the piece. Particular standouts: the dreamy pas de deux between Johnny and John of Leiden, which evolves (devolves) into a fantastically drowsy group number; an interlude with McLaren and a large rope, evoking the silent movie comedy of Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin (excellent physical comedy from Maffei); and the final closing group number, with the full cast in skulls and trench coats (a nod to Dadaist symbol “Dada Death”—a grinning skull mask smoking a cigarette), and elements of ballet interspersed with the aggressive stomps and kicks of the punk style. In a play this dense, visual aids are key, and the multimedia design (credited to Jason Johnson-Spiros), projected against a screen above the stage, was a witty and stylish addition.
I could go on, and on, but simply put, it’s hard to imagine a better, more energetic group for taking on Lipstick Traces than Outcry Theatre, and it was a privilege and a pleasure to watch. I’ll be waiting on the edge of my seat to see what the company comes up with next.
WHEN: Closed May 29th
WHERE: 15650 Addison Rd, Addison, TX 75001
WEB: For more information, visit: https://www.outcrytheatre.com/
