Photos by Johnny Knight. Top: Cat Dean (left) and Mouzam Makkar. Below, Makkar (clockwise, from back left), Anita Chandwaney, Dean and Cory Krebsbach.
Everyone knows the truism, few would debate its wisdom: When in Rome… But what if the Romans are impoverished Third World women oppressed by a barbaric caste system and the sort of institutional sexism that keeps them at the mercy of abusive men? Why shouldn’t an empowered, enlightened woman of the United States ride in on her (figurative) white horse and perform a rescue mission in the name of righteous sisterhood? A respect for cultural differences is imperative, of course. But when those differences are indicative of a socio-economic patriarchy that’s bass ackwards, an American woman of noble intent can hardly be blamed for claiming the moral high ground, yes? Maybe no.
In M.E. Lewis’ morally complex and dramatically satisfying new work, another tried-and-true maxim comes into play – the one that has to do with good intentions and where the proverbial road that is paved with them winds up.
Here Where It’s Safe would be a worthwhile drama if Lewis’ examination of the thorny thicket of East/West/rich/poor culture clashes were the sum and substance of the story. But Lewis ups the ante by filtering those issues through the lens of surrogate mothers and medical tourism. The ending is a bit too easy – you can just see the faint shadow of baby blue ribbons neatly tying the whole thing up in the final scene. Moreover, two of the five roles in the piece are a bit underwritten. Even so, in director Scott Bishop’s crisply staged production, Stage Left has a story that fully engages both the brain and the emotions. 
The moral conundrum begins when “barely middle class” white Americans Abigail (Cat Dean) and Zachery Jones (Cory Krebsbach) go to India to hire a surrogate. It’s a feat of storytelling that Lewis covers the details of surrogacy – both biological and financial –through dialogue that’s natural and fascinating. There’s a lot of info imparted here, and not a whit of expository reciting. Among the specifics: While the Jones’ could hire a surrogate in the U.S. for about $80,000, they can get one for less than a quarter of that in India. Plus, as Abigail points out, Indian, surrogates are strictly supervised, living in “hostels” where their diet and behavior is strictly monitored. Stateside, surrogates can smoke, drink, go bungee jumping and eat nothing but Twinkies and crystal meth if they’re so inclined. “You have no control,” Abigail notes. Perhaps even more crucially, an Indian surrogate would not be listed on the birth certificate. Abigail would be the only mother of record. According to a U.S. birth certificate, Abigail Jones would never be the mother.
So off Zach and Abigail go to India, over the acerbic objections of their sassy (underwritten) lesbian friend, Jem (Kate Black). While Jem is mostly a vehicle for wry one-liners, her insight is vital in illuminating the limitations of the Jones’ understanding of the situation and all of its implications.
“You’re colonizing their wombs,” Jem tells Abigail. As for the difference between using a U.S. surrogate and an Indian one? Jem likens it to the difference between sex workers in Reno and sex-slaves in Bangkok.
Once the Jones’ hire 19-year-old Beena (Mouzam Makkar), as their surrogate, the chasm between cultures becomes even more apparent. Some might accuse Lewis of the cardinal sin (gasp) of moral relativism when she has Dr. Uma Prajapatel (Anita Chandwaney) sternly instruct Abigail that in India, “everyone knows their place,” and warns her not to let Beena – sweet, submissive, and utterly devoted to her own young son – take advantage of them. But Dr. Prajapatel’s warning has more validity than the Jones – and indeed most Westerners - are capable of understanding. What Abigail insists is compassion, the doctor sees as cruelty. Abigail isn’t the first white American Dr. Prajapatel has seem promise a better life to her impoverished surrogate. “When you go home you will not have time to worry about a girl 8,000 miles away,” the physician lectures – and there’s no doubting the statement’s hard truth.
Bishop pulls solid performances from the cast, anchored by the trio of Dean, Makkar and Chandwaney. Dean pulls off a precipitous balancing act, radiating the sincere kindness of a woman who wants to do good and the exasperating cluelessness of a woman who never thinks to question the full context of her actions. Makkar gives Beena equal depth, depicting a young woman who is at once guileless and relentlessly, unfairly demanding. Chandwaney has the most difficult task as a physician whose career demands a demeanor of poker-faced professionalism and little overt emotion. She manages beautifully, clipped, no-nonsense diction never obscuring the empathetic nature that dictates it.
As for Kresbach and Black, they do well saddled with roles of lesser depth. Jem all but disappears in the second act, while Black is reduced to a distant presence that seems almost inconsequential.
Lewis leaves the audience to conclude where the “here” of the title lies. It’s the kind of ambiguity that prompts contemplation of carefully presented possibilities rather than frustration over sloppy loose ends. They are possibilities well worth exploring.
Here Where It's Safe continues through April 3 at Stage Left Theatre, 3408 N. Sheffield. Tickets are $22 and $25. For more information called 773/883-8830 or go to www.stagelefttheatre.com or click here '.
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