Fascinating and Frightening, The Constructivists' "Babel" is Absolutely Riveting

When I was pregnant with my second child, people asked if I was hoping for a boy or a girl.  And I would say what you are supposed to say: “The gender doesn’t matter as long as the baby is healthy.” But at age 39, which medically classified mine as a “geriatric pregnancy,” I worried about the “healthy” part a lot. According to statistics, procreating after 35 carries a lot of risks. And make no mistake, I wanted the kid I’d seen in the diaper commercials. I wanted the smiley, cooing, cherubic bundle of joy with ten fingers and ten toes, whose every sound – even the  burps – were adorable. I wanted my baby to be perfect, like every other expectant parent I knew.

But the goal of producing “perfect babies” looks a lot less attractive in Jacqueline Goldfinger’s funny, disturbing, dystopian nightmare play Babel, about government approved reproduction. Produced by The Constructivists, the company that revels in unsettling and ominous stories, Babel is a fascinating and frightening look at a future world where resources are limited, so the most food, water, and privilege are given to the most perfect people – those who are genetically, physically, emotionally, and psychologically closest to ideal. 

In this scenario, if, at three weeks gestation, your fetus meets all the rigorous standards for excellence then hooray! Your child is “certified” as a worthy member of society by the government. But if the fetus doesn’t meet the screening criteria, it is uncertified. Mothers of those unfortunate embryos have two choices. They can end the pregnancy with a shot, or risk having a child that will be shunned by “the community.” If uncertified children reach the age of eighteen without overcoming their abnormalities through intensive therapy, they are separated from society and doomed to work at mind-numbing, menial labor camps. Seems fair, right? Sure. Until it happens to you.  

Ashley Oviedo (Ann) and Logan Milway (Jamie); Sarah Harris (Set Design), Ellie Rabinowitz (Lighting Design), Les Zarzecki (Set Construction)

This is the situation that Dani (Maya Danks) and Renee (Nicole McCarty) find themselves in. After eight years of trying to start a family, they are finally pregnant. But when Renee comes back from the doctor’s office after her test, the news is not good. Now the couple needs to decide what to do about their less than perfect baby. 

With her brown hair pulled tightly back into a bun and her business clothes chicly tailored, Danks brings Dani, the ultra type A corporate executive, convincingly to life. The loving wife and successful professional begins the play as the sensible, confident, calm one, reassuring the emotionally frayed (and hormonal) Renee that everything will be fine. But tiny cracks begin to appear in Dani’s perfect facade as her desperation to hide, cover-up, or completely deny this genetically flawed child grows. Watching her totally unravel over the course of the play is as delightful as it is horrifying. 

As her wife Renee, McCarty is the earthy and weary but pragmatic half of the couple who is trying her very best to keep it together. Reacting to the test results, she swings from worried to panicked – even her comical, determined attempts at yoga breathing can’t help her. But Renee is also the one who is seriously wrestling with the decision of either proceeding with the non-state sanctioned pregnancy or ending it and giving up for good. Every facial expression, every long exhale betrays that too many years of failed fertility treatments and inseminations have taken their toll. 

And just as things seem bleakest for Renee, the talking stork shows up. Invading her thoughts, haunting her dreams, and nagging her to do what the government says is right, the six foot stork will not leave Renee alone. Turns out the bird who traditionally delivers babies is now in the anti-baby business and he’s working for Big Brother. Determined to sort out truth from fiction, McCarty is terrific as the grounding force in the play. While chaos erupts around her, the actress beckons the audience to come along with her on an unexpected, and ultimately dark journey. 

News that the couple’s best friends are expecting is the last thing they need, but it’s hard for Dani and Renee not to celebrate with their giddily happy pals. Ann (Ashley Oviedo) and Jamie (Logan Milway) are over the moon with the news that a new (hopefully perfect!)  little person will be joining their family. But something has Jamie very worried. And that has Ann very worried. And suddenly what was statistically a very favorable match is looking a little less perfect to Ann. 

As the younger couple Oviedo and Milway are well matched, and have real chemistry onstage. Far from her recent role as Audrey in Skylight Music Theatre’s Little Shop of Horrors, Oviedo portrays Ann as the wunderkind whose adult life isn’t panning out as well as she had been promised. Feeling far from perfect in her job working for Dani, Oviedo’s Ann struggles poignantly as she repeats a mantra for success in the mirror, with hands shaking, betraying her fear that despite her great genes, she’s somehow not good enough. 

In his dual role as Jamie and the menacing stork, Milway has both the most honest and the most absurd scenes in the show. Portrayed with a bitter vulnerability, Milway’s Jamie is a good guy who got stuck with a bad label and is trying to work around a system that he sees is dangerously flawed. When he cries out, “Less than perfect is not a monster!” it cuts the evening in half. 

There are no dull moments in this outstanding production. Constructivists Artistic Director Jamielyn Gray goes all out in her direction of Babel, pushing each scene to its dramatic limits. Even the scene changes are infused with silent interplay between the characters as they move furniture, enter, and exit. The tension grows exponentially as the situations get more and more bizarre. And like its namesake, the play’s group scenes often devolve into high pitched, overlapping chatter as the characters reassure each other that everything is fine, the government obviously knows what it’s doing, and they are the chosen ones: they cannot fail. Of course none of this is actually true, and the proof is in the ending, where all expectations are ingeniously subverted. 

These interlocking, increasingly harrowing stories are played out against a gorgeous, azure blue wall that curves around the characters. Sarah Harris’s simple but elegant set easily evokes the seaside where several characters retreat to consider their futures. It also stands in for a blank computer screen, and perhaps a perfectly clear blue sky, which is massively less interesting without a few clouds. 

While the script gets a bit repetitive as characters argue about the wisdom of the system of eugenics their society has chosen, the message is refreshing and stark. Without a wide range of  people, with different abilities, flaws, and idiosyncrasies there are no geniuses. There are no artists. There is only a dull and homogenous “best.” And while science and medicine have come a long way in predicting people’s abilities, they cannot see the future. Potential can’t be measured in a blood test, just as it can’t really be limited by a diagnosis.  And as a mom of a child who was not “perfect” after all, I can tell you that for sure.

Babel is playing at the Broadway Theatre Center through April 2. Go see this tremendous production of a play that no other theater in Wisconsin was brave enough to stage.