Review: ‘Nan and the Lower Body’ saved by chemistry, not biology

Georgios Nikolaou Papanicolaou, aka Dr. Pap, and his new assistant Nan are an odd couple. While the doctor who pioneered a screening for early cancer detection in women, known as the Pap smear, bounces off the walls, Nan is apologetic for even being hired to serve in his lab at Cornell. “I’m not particularly talented,” she explains sheepishly. “I seem to be only good at patience. And detail. And being myself.”

But Nan has many reasons for getting herself into the lab to work with Pap. Might her life be spared due to the research she is about to embark upon? What about the benefits it will bring to her marriage with liberal minister Ted?

There is plenty to like about TheaterWorks Silicon Valley’s world premiere of “Nan and the Lower Body,” by Jessica Dickey, directed sharply by Giovanna Sardelli. Yet, while there may not be a better time to delve into a play about female anatomy, the narrative can feel glossed over, utilizing unfortunate and inorganic clichés.

Pap (Christopher Daftsios) is a researcher who’s great at conversation, his joyous Greek accent bursting to his new friends, the audience. He establishes a warm rapport immediately, and wants to talk vagina. Vagina. And in case you didn’t hear him the first 10 times, vagina. He loves the word and loves debunking the stigma of speaking the word out loud — the squirm is the thing.

But to Pap, vaginal health is world health — “If we are to evolve as a civilization, it will be because we prioritize the vagina,” he earnestly states to Ted (Jeffrey Brian Adams), Nan’s husband, whose face breaks into serious contortion with every utterance of the word.

Great conversation is not reciprocated by Nan (Elissa Beth Stebbins), who fumbles while learning methodically about a staining sequence in order to analyze a smear. While they wait for the timer to ring them to the next sequence, Pap uses the opportunity to ask more intimate questions, especially about potential future baby plans for her and her husband. It is also a chance to provide insight into his own marriage to Mache (Lisa Ramirez), who is entering the twilight of her life feeling that her time has expired, that the doctor no longer needs her science.

Pap is bullish on the science of his chosen profession, which confuses males who are often curious about his lack of sexual desire despite his dedication to the female anatomy. Women don’t carry that same curiosity — Nan is the first to ask. But the vagina is the great beyond for Pap, and if he can create a legacy of saving women’s lives with Nan at his side, that legacy is secured.

While the play glosses over critical moments that need more development, the performances in the four-hander reveal compelling truths about each character.

Scenes between Stebbins and Daftsios work well, as each character provides the other with a great foil: Pap is a man brimming with radiance and deft comic timing, while Nan locks deeply into a secret mystery that piques his curiosity.

Adams is a delightful Ted, a man who can’t seem to find a comfort level with his wife or her boss. In one particularly cringeworthy instant, he learns that delivering flowers to the lab while looking for an impromptu date with his wife is a poor idea.

More problematic is seeing Mache explode over her role in Pap’s life, despite Ramirez doing solid work in a heightened moment of tension. Yet the Greek ditty that Pap uses to calm Mache feels forced. In addition, the play’s final scene, while providing compelling discoveries about how the rest of the world shaped out for everyone, adds minimal to the overall narrative.

With the present-day all-out invasion on women’s reproductive rights, there is power in seeing women on stage commanding autonomy over their own bodies. In some of the saddest poetry in the story, a woman’s vagina is described as a valuable tusk that hunters covet. But, as Nan states emphatically, “It’s my tusk. On the inside. It’s my tusk on the inside.”

David John Chávez is chair of the American Theatre Critics Association and served as a juror for the 2022 Pulitzer Prize for Drama. Twitter: @davidjchavez.

‘NAN AND THE LOWER BODY’

World premiere play by Jessica Dickey, presented by TheatreWorks Silicon Valley

Through: Aug. 7

Where: Lucie Stern Theatre, 1305 Middlefield Road, Palo Alto

Run time: 90 minutes, no intermission

Health & safety: Proof of vaccination is required, masks must be worn in the theater

Tickets: $30-$95; 877-662-8978, theatreworks.org