Two porn stars: one male, one female, discuss what goes on behind the scenes in one of the world’s most controversial industries. With its lurid title and premise, The Fucking Problem, should have no trouble getting butts in seats, what might surprise audiences about this play by Emily Alexander and Nate Dobson, is the honesty with which it tackles sexuality, and the openness with which it challenges us to see beyond our preconceptions about the role of pornography, its performers and how we deal with anything related to genitals.
Alexander and Dobson play the porn stars in question who we meet during a break from a scene they’ve just shot together. Even though they are seated side by side onstage, they couldn’t be further apart from each other if they tried. Within the world of the play they are in their own dressing rooms, but emotionally and intellectually they might as well be in different planets. He accidentally ejaculated in her eye ruining one of her artificial eyelashes, and while she rejoices in the fact she will get to feel pretty again once her makeup is reapplied, he pats himself on the back for his ability to “cum on command”.
If at first, the play seems as if it will be about how different these two are in terms of traditional gender norms - she talks about the need to feel attractive using feminine tricks, he gulps down a burrito as he makes “fucking” puns - soon we find ourselves finding they have more in common than we thought. As they each discuss former flames, the play is infused with longing and melancholy that aches more than it has any right to. The characters, who remain nameless perhaps in hopes of not feeling like they’re referencing specific adult personalities, but also achieving a sense of universality, are sensuously portrayed by the actors. Alexander gives her feline qualities that highlight her power and sensuality, while Dobson whose character acknowledges his “unusual” looks for a porn star, is able to fill his character with the kind of cockiness that’s both obnoxious and strangely arousing.
Even though the characters don’t share any scenes or interact directly with each other, their descriptions are so thorough that we can practically envision them at work, it helps that their timing is so well balanced that often it’s as if we’re witnessing them actually engaging in some sort of lovemaking, just from the way in which they compliment each other onstage. It’s then when the play takes a turn into an even darker place as it focuses on the notion of consent. It’s a bold move that feels absolutely enlightening, and also makes the play important without being heavy handed. One could make puns about how well the show balances sex talk with intelligent social commentary, but it’s better to praise it for not only approaching pornography and sex without making any winks, but also for acknowledging that we should be able to talk to each other about sexuality without any fears and that communication should be the ultimate aphrodisiac.
