thank God for bella

As a rule, I don't read interviews or critiques before seeing an artistic endeavor.
Whether that art is in the form of a movie, a play, or an installation at a museum or gallery is of no matter.
I'm not interested in reading someone else's opinion until after I have formed my own.
I do make exceptions for Indian films, as I want to know if it's Bollywood or a 'regular' movie. Since a special trip out to Pooler is involved, as well as extra cost, I like to have a heads up on whether the trip is warranted. As the Italians, say : "Quando un uomo mi inganna una volta, è colpa sua; quando due volte, è mio."
Why do I mention Italians?
Well, in the play I watched tonight, the setting is a villa in Italy.
That sounds beautiful and romantic, doesn't it? Especially as I have such fond memories of my two trips, ten years apart, to that cultural heart.
The play, "Big Love", was neither beautiful nor romantic.
Nor was it a comedy, although it had been billed as such.
(Note to self: When the director provides copies of the reviews with the playbill, that is not a good sign. When he stands before the play with a foreword, that is not a good sign, either. David did both for this season opener.)
No, "Big Love" was a loud, physically and emotionally bruising, 'battle of the sexes' with heaping helpings of animosity toward men. Charles L. Mee based this on the Greek tragedy by Aeschylus, but added a twist. Rather than have the womens' father be the one to tell his daughters to murder their cousin-grooms on their wedding nights, Mee opts to have one of the daughters lead her sisters into acts of mass murder.
Wow.
And in this age of the #metoo, there were actually folks in the audience cheering Thyona's hateful rants against any who opposed her... against her cousins, also forced into this arranged marriage by their parents; against any of her sisters who dared defy her wishes and chose love; against the peace-loving owner of the villa that she and her (forty-nine) sisters had usurped with no regard or invitation.
Wow.
I wonder how many of those cheering would welcome someone busting into their home and making demands. I hardly believe they would find that acceptable, certainly not if it were not just one "suppliant" but a horde of them.
Wow.
I know the theme for this Collective Face Ensemble's season is "ruptured romance", but I'll warrant that this one has too many jagged little edges to fit with the other three selections.
I certainly hope that is the case.
One bright spot shone in this well of sadness: Bella, the grande dame of the villa and mother of its owner, her first-born son. She is of an age that she is far-removed from the emotion-charged (and hormone-driven) turmoils of youth. She reminded me of my Grandmama and our conversations together on road trips between Savannah and Tallahassee.
Bella tells the story of how she met her husband, "a skinny and ugly boy" who asked her to ride on his motorcycle. She had done so, as he had skin that was such that she "wanted to touch it". Bada boom, bada bing, they ended up in his bed... then married, happily, with thirteen sons together. He's now been dead for years, but she said she'd "gladly get on that motorcycle again".
Amen.
Now, that is 'big love.'