Jabari, Matt McConkey, Drew Droege. (Photo by Dusti Cunningham)
Reviewed by F. Kathleen Foley
The Whitefire Theatre
Through Oct. 24
RECOMMENDED
Matt McConkey, Drew Droege and Jabari (Photo by Dusti Cunningham)
Texas Sodomy, Howard Skora’s new play at the Whitefire Theatre, is a true story based on the landmark case, Texas v. Lawrence, which involved two gay man arrested in 1998 for sexual intimacy in their own home. After years of legal wrangling and setbacks in the Texas courts, Texas v. Lawrence landed before the U.S. Supreme Court in 2003. In a six to three decision, the Court ruled that Texas’s Homosexual Conduct law was unconstitutional, overturning antiquated sodomy laws in over a dozen states and clearing the path for the 2015 Supreme Court ruling that recognized same-sex marriage as a federally protected right.
In his beautifully constructed, rigorously researched play, Skora, who also directs, drew not only from historical records but also from extensive interviews with those most intimately familiar with the case. The result is a deft, surprisingly funny, and ultimately moving drama that sheds light on a largely forgotten footnote in the annals of gay rights.
It’s 1998. John Lawrence (Drew Droege) and Tyron Garner (Jabari) are enjoying a quiet evening in John’s apartment when Houston police officers, responding to a phony police report from Tyron’s jealous boyfriend Royce (Dylan Vox), barge into John’s apartment with guns drawn. John and Tyron’s arrest under Texas’s Homosexual Conduct law draws the attention of Lane Lewis (Matt McConkey), a bartender and gay rights activist who feels that this might be the long-awaited opportunity to overturn the archaic Texas statute.
The case grinds its way through the lesser courts (John Knowle’s essential video design clues us in on the ongoing time frame). Initially, a three-judge panel at the Texas Court of Appeals finds Texas’s Homosexual Conduct law unconstitutional. That decision causes such pearl-clutching outrage among Texas conservatives that the case is reheard by the full Court of Appeals, which reverses the ruling and upholds the law.
Those are just the opening salvos in a battle that raged through the lower Texas courts over the course of years. Texas Sodomy is a cogently rendered historical account of that struggle. But it is above all an intensely personal play about flawed, deeply human characters — gay men on the margins of conservative Texas society who have faced homophobic hatred and ridicule all their lives.
Lawrence is a snarky, flamboyant, but mostly closeted hospital worker with a turbulent past who keeps his sexual proclivities on the down low. Reluctantly wheedled into becoming involved with the case, he is his own worst enemy when it comes to dealing with the press, the judges, and his attorneys, who are hard-pressed to keep their hard-drinking star defendant from becoming embroiled in scandal. However, near play’s end, when Lawrence finally arrives in D.C. for the Supreme Court case, he is embraced by the gay activists outside the court as an intrepid hero of the movement. It’s a lovely scene in which Lawrence’s lifelong shame gives way to the dawning realization that he, after all, has worth. As his face lights up with new hope and pride, we are deeply moved.
In the past, Drew Droege has been a sort of priest (priestess?) of high camp, a riotously funny crowd-pleaser in such shows as Psycho Beach Party and Die, Mommy, Die! His hilarious online drag turn as the satirically pretentious Chloe Sevigny has gone viral.
But for those who have relegated him to the camp genre, it’s time for a reassessment. In Texas Sodomy, Droege’s Lawrence is a mouthy, self-proclaimed “mess” with low self-esteem and an alcohol problem. Initially over-the-top, even a tad campy, Droege’s performance gradually deepens into a poignant portrayal of a marginalized gay man blindsided by the role he plays in world-changing events.
The excellent cast includes Aaron Tone, Tom Trudgeon, and Celeste Pechous, a particular standout as a brash lesbian attorney who pushes the case through failure after failure. Professionalism is apparent in every aspect of Skora’s staging, extending from the performers to the designers, many of whom have worked with Skora on previous projects.
The historical record is fascinating, including the statistic that, out of 80,000 cases put before the Supreme Court each year, less than 80 are actually heard. That made Texas v. Lawrence a unicorn case that miraculously succeeded against long odds. The fact that the Court has since been packed with conservative ideologues makes us fear that the rights granted in 2003 may soon be taken away — an existential threat that should not be taken lightly. Texas Sodomy’s clarion warning of such an eventuality makes it even more urgent and timely. It is an important play that should be seen.
Whitefire Theatre, 13500 Ventura Blvd., Sherman Oaks. Fri.-Sat., 8 pm; Sunday, 9/20 & 9/27, 7 pm; Sunday., 10/4, 10/11 & 10/18, 2 pm; thru Oct. 24. www.TexasSodomy Runtime: one hour and 45 minutes with no intermission.
