IT’S A GENDER THING
“Balls” is a meticulous show. Every second is precisely choreographed, every line of dialogue fine-tuned to serve its premise that conflict between men and women has always existed.
Movement director Natalie Lomonte is deliberate and muscular, employing conventions of both professional tennis and modern dance to help tell this account of the domestic, historical and physical struggles related to gender.
The show, at Stages Repertory Theatre from the New York-based One Year Lease, uses the 1973 Battle of the Sexes tennis match between Billie Jean King and Bobby Riggs, held at Houston’s Astrodome, as a backdrop to a larger story about the fight for female equality. “Balls” is often tongue-in-cheek with its approach to commentary, but its points are genuine — look at this over-dramatized match between a man and a woman, the production asks us, and think about how that relates to, well, everything.
Caveman versus cavewoman. Trump versus Clinton. Roe versus Wade. These are some of the other battles of the sexes that “Balls” references while King, played by the stoic and athletic Ellen Tamaki, faces off against the playfully boyish old man Riggs (an affable Donald Corren). For audiences who witnessed that match — the show drew record-breaking television viewership — the early ’70s sensibility will be a source for nostalgic comedy. But for those born later, “Balls” becomes more of a look at not just 1973 but the entire past, present and future of how we talk about gender.
A ballboy (Alex J. Gould) and ballgirl (Elisha Mudly) fall in love on the court. Their story speeds forward to the present while the 1973 match continues on. Years into their marriage, we see the ballgirl is a pro-choice feminist who wants to get an abortion and move out of Texas, while the ballboy, despite knowing that a third child would be hard on the family, can’t accept abortion as a viable option. All of a sudden, while Riggs and King talk serves, lobs and drop-shots in 1973, this couple is being torn apart presentday by the gap between what a man expects from a woman and what a woman wants for herself.
The tennis match is an easy metaphor for both conflict and the pendulumlike swing of social change, though in “Balls” its function also is musical. The crisp crack of ball on a wooden racket, the low plunk of a ball on the court, the muted thud of a ball against the net — these sounds turn into the rhythm of major movement.
Tamaki, as King, is purposefully rigid in her emoting, putting emphasis instead on her serve, her footwork and her swing. King tells us she prefers the court because it’s simpler than the rest of the world. Inside, she wins by getting the ball into a specific rectangle. That’s it. And she’s great at it.
Outside, the battle looks unwinnable. King is in love with her hairdresser Marilyn Barnett (Zakiya Iman Markland), but knows being openly gay would diminish her career. History shows us that things do not all turn out well. But “Balls” approaches King’s fascinating biography with glee and perspective and a tone that’s both lighthearted and cutting throughout the show. In one scene, a male spectator complains about Renée Richards, one of first prominent trans tennis players in America. Why can’t men just be men, and women be women, he asks. The spectator prefers true, masculine men. His ideal athlete? “A true Olympian,” he says, “like Bruce Jenner.”