Manuel Puig's 1976 novel, KISS OF THE SPIDER WOMAN is a literary phenomenon, controversial and complex (with footnotes even), timely if not well-ahead of its time, prescient and revelatory about homosexuality, gender identity, cinematic art, fantasy and reality, and love and betrayal ~ supremely better than Hector Babenco's 1985 film version, which in turn surpassed the Harold Prince's 1993 Broadway musical, yet each, in its own right receiving accolades, Puig a Pulitzer, William Hurt an Oscar, and a bank of Tony's in 1993 for Ebb and Kander's score, Terence McNally's book, Chita Rivera's performance as Aurora/Spider Woman, etc., etc., etc.
With a pedigree like this and the richness of its themes and content, KISS OF THE SPIDER WOMAN is a treasure trove of possibility, to be mined deeply and imaginatively for its allusions to the mythology of the spider woman, cinema, and revolution.
Consider the provocative scenario: Confine two diametrically different men ~ Luis Alberto Molina (Michael Schauble), a homosexual window dresser, serving the third year of an eight-year-sentence for corrupting a minor, and Valentin Arregui Paz (Matt Newhard), a Marxist insurrectionist ~ in some banana republic's tortuous prison. The former grates on the other, enough so that Valentin draws a line in the concrete where never the twain shall meet. Molina is, however, irrepressible, daring that the line be crossed, not solely to satisfy his own obsession but to serve as the warden's mole. Molina's freedom and return to his ailing mother require that he extract information from Valentin. Molina, the son of an usherette ~ "a cineaste in my mother's womb" ~ is a devotee of Hollywood Class Z movies (horror films like The Cat People or The Panther Woman), and, in the throes of despair, calls upon Aurora (Lindsay Kalby), his imaginary savior, hoping as well to draw Valentin into his fantasy world. What can come of a love born in such circumstances?
Here is a plot that calls for a well-crafted balance of Molina's and Valentin's contrasting personalities and a credible evolution of their relationship; characterization where flamboyance is manifested by far more than the swish of a scarf and the righteous indignation of the rebel by far more than yelling; an Aurora with range and vampy sensuality; scenery that leverages the mythology of the arachnid; a more seamless integration of musical numbers from old movies; and a choreography that is less mechanical and more jazzy.
On these varied accounts, I must say that Scottsdale Musical Theater Company's current stab at the KISS falls short. The multi-talented Hector Coris directs this ambitious production, but I fear that limited resources have roadblocked him from realizing the production's full potential.
KISS's May 25th-May 29th run in the Studio Theater at Tempe Center for the Arts is all too short. With more time and resource, this production could be a memorable one.
Photo credit to Jessica Cole
Videos