REVIEW BY NOE GIVVEN-TAYKE - "The Urinal Monologues," a series of interlocking monologues by six talking urinals dealing with all-things-penis, is perhaps the first serious attempt to unlock the urinal's inner voice. The show, making its world debut in the men's room of the City Theater, is a cathartic, gut-wrenching celebration of the unspoken truths about the penis: that it is is the only tool through which men achieve both solidarity with maleness and, paradoxically, total individuality, yet society ordains it remain zippered out of sight due to its sublime power for both procreation and violence. Aside from that, we are told that it's a lot of fun to use it to take a whizz in the snow.
These themes are explored with unflinching candor in monologues dealing with the gender-specific oppression men experience when they are forced to shake after peeing to avoid getting urine drip on their underwear, not to mention the unspeakable shame of morning erections.
But a few women in the audience found it a little off-putting when one urinal encouraged the audience to repeatedly chant the phrase “piss on women.” One young female in the audience later said that the chant did little to empower men and only served to dilute the play's important message of urging men to embrace their genitalia, with both hands. Some of the men who participated in the chant admitted they were embarrassed by their actions but said they'd probably do it again if given the chance. In fact, the chant was intended by trans playwright Geraldine Jones to instill a sense of collective male guilt, but the men who spoke with us said that concept was completely foreign to them.
The ending more than made up for any failings, though, as the men in the audience threw down their inhibitions and approached the urinals, slowly at first, then with greater confidence. One by one they unzipped, some with beer in hand, and like race horses, peed to rousing applause. More than a few raised both arms while they pissed in a triumphant gesture of masculinity, a fitting coda to a play that epitomizes everything that modern theater does right. The triumph was topped off by an inspired blast of realism when, after the men had finished urinating, women in the audience had to remind most of them to wash their hands.
The play is slated to run through March 31.
