D.A. Mindell’s On the Evolutionary Function of Shame is a timely, trenchant, and often funny new play that explores the issue of trans visibility. Mindell initially sets the scene in the biblical Garden of Eden, where Adam and Eve (Jordan Barbour and Elizabeth Ramos) are newly clad in foliage-based outfits (wittily designed by Hahnji Jang) and grappling with their sudden susceptibility to mosquito bites and all-too-keen awareness of their bodies. Adam, naturally, is obsessed with the size of his penis, and gets little reassurance from Eve on that score (“I really don’t think it’s that small”).
We soon jump to the modern day, where a trans man also named Adam (Cody Sloan) and his husband, Fox (Marx filled in for Ryan Jamaal Swain at my performance), are expecting their first child. Adam’s twin sister, Eve (Kayli Carter), is a genetic researcher for a corporate entity menacingly called the Eden Project who’s volunteered her lab’s resources to assist with Adam’s pregnancy. She’s also quietly managed to isolate the genetic marker for gender dysphoria, the psychological distress that many trans people experience from the disconnect between the sex they were assigned at birth and their lived gender identity.
Mindell isn’t interested in the circumstances and consequences of a trans man sublimating his masculinity (chemically or otherwise) to nurture a fetus in his uterus. He’s more engaged in the philosophical questions that arise from Eve’s cutting-edge research, which suggests the possibility of editing out that dysphoria gene — and eliminating the awful experience that Adam endured as a teenager and young adult (which tormented him despite, in his case, the presence of a supportive family).
The 90-minute play raises some fascinating questions: about Eve’s “eugenics-adjacent” work, about whether her motivation is to support her brother or the sister she sometimes feels she lost along the way, about whether sparing Adam and Fox’s child the agony that Adam endured is a desirable goal on either an individual or societal level. Will technology just lead to trans erasure, either by state sanction or (as, potentially, in Adam’s case) voluntary genetic modifications? Mindell raises these questions in a compelling way, layering in intriguing dynamics of Adam’s relationship with his sister and his nonbinary partner who see real benefits in circumventing the kind of pain that comes during transition. He also lightens the deeper dramatic moments with humor, as when Adam worries that he’s projecting his anxieties onto his child in the womb. “Not that there’s nothing to be scared of,” he says. “Climate change. Fascism. Queer people who think a recession is an excuse to bring back mullets.”
Still, there are moments when the characters can seem less like recognizable individuals than mouthpieces for a particular line of argument. Eve has no apparent social (or romantic) life outside of her research and somewhat fraught attachment to her twin. And her autistic colleague, Margot (Imani Russell), seems to exist mostly as the avatar for another condition that genetic research might be able to modify — and to offer characteristically cool, calm, and emotionless advice when Eve begins to second-guess her work. There’s also some strain in the recurring scenes set back in Eden, as the original Adam and Eve grapple with their first pregnancy (“you’re not allowed to name it gerbil”) and the murderous death of their son. The connection to the present timeline isn’t as clear or integrated as it could be.
But these are quibbles. On the whole, Mindell has created something original — a thought exercise where serious issues get a real workout. Director Jess McLeod’s production benefits from a first-rate cast that navigates both the philosophical arguments and the punchlines with clarity and a feather-light touch. On the Evolutionary Function of Shame provokes laughter and deep thought, and gets you to see the trans community in an entirely new way. ★★★☆☆
ON THE EVOLUTIONARY FUNCTION OF SHAME
Second Stage at Pershing Square Signature Center, Off Broadway
Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission
Tickets on sale through March 9 (tickets: $76-$106)
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