If you have never seen or read Lysistrata, Aristophanes’s classic comedy about Athens women refusing to have sex with their men until the long, dreadful war with Sparta ceases, and want to see it as Aristophanes originally wrote it, then the current SU Department of Drama production is probably not for you.  Oh, the general theme about war is there, as well as much of the original dialogue and action –– but this production is as different from a standard Lysistrata as a Renaissance painting is from a Jackson Pollack.

This production is out of Aristophanes, but by way of Marat Sade and Fellini –– with a large helping of Bertolt Brecht and a dab of Caryl Churchill.  There are references to the current state of wars all over the planet.  The U.S. gets its due: One character appears as a kind of Uncle Sam dressed as a clown.  One man’s phallus is a toy rocket.  At times men play women’s roles, and women play men’s.  By the end of this interpolation (if not interpretation) of the original, Aristophanes’s ending is upended.  In the dystopian, surreal world that director Cross inventively creates, nothing ever brings lasting peace.  Nothing really ever changes.  Everything is unreal.  The enemy is us.

In one scene, Amos VanderPoel, the councilor and principal antagonist to Lysistrata, has a group men circle up and sit down.  He then proceeds to give us a wonderful take-off on a much too sensitive men’s therapy group called "Men Afraid of Women."  This delightful bit of contemporary satire is more Director Cross than playwright Aristophanes.

Hewing closer to the original script is the scene –– intentionally overacted from the original (which itself encourages overacting) –– where Charlo Kirk, as Cinesias, sports a huge phallus (this is from the original, but in a delightful visual pun is actually a fair sized log, i.e. wood).  He is tempted by, and then painfully (and hilariously) frustrated and rejected by, his wife (the pert Tara Carbone) in sexy lingerie.

Much of what goes on is overacted, which is appropriate for the concept and even right for the original script but so overdone we find ourselves never really involved in the action.  Dialogue and choral sections are often hard to follow.  Action flows disjointedly.  This is all intentional, of course, but often simply confusing and oddly distancing.    

The question I have concerns how it all works.  Or rather, doesn’t.   Brecht managed to keep us at once distant from the drama (that famous alienation effect) so we’d get the point, yet he rarely failed to keep us involved in the lives and sufferings of his characters.  Here the effect ultimately alienates without involving us.  

This is very much an ensemble production and a fine chance for a large cast of drama students to try out the experimental and the unusual.  It’s clever, creative, interestingly staged and well-acted, but it fails to do the thing that most of us come to the theater for in that it never makes us care what’s going on, even though at times it delights the eye and intrigues the mind.  Often it’s bewildering, or silly or vulgar, or just overdone.  A fair number of audience members left at intermission –– which is too bad, as Act 2 is stronger than the first act.  

Andrea Leigh-Smith’s choreography marvelously supports Cross’s view of a world gone mad, as does Katherine Walters’s sometimes jarring lighting.  And Meggan Camp’s very surreal costumes are stunning.

The production is as unsexy a version of Lysistrata as you’re ever likely to see.  And that’s all intentional.  The world is mad.  Sex is a weapon.  There are no winners.  But however obvious the themes, the problem –– as one opening-night audience member said –– is that it’s hard to find the center of the production and to feel yourself involved with it.

Still, if you are interested in the experimental and the non-standard, this Lysistrata is worth a visit.  Hint: If you really want to be prepared for the ending, read up on the Universal Declaration of Human Rights before you go. 

What: Lysistrata, by Aristophanes
Where: Storch Theatre at Syracuse Stage, 820 E. Genesee St., Syracuse.
When: Through Feb. 27.
Length of performance: About 2 hours, with one intermission.
Tickets:  $8, rush one hour before curtain;  $16, students and seniors; $18, general admission. (Feb 23:  "pay what you can night" with student ID.)  Call 315-443-3275, or http://vpa.syr.edu/drama
Family guide: Strong language, adult themes and action