Theater

‘Arguendo’ debates the right to dance naked

The reenactment of Supreme Court oral arguments, verbatim — sounds like an evening of fun theater, right?

OK, maybe not for everybody.

It helps that the new play “Arguendo” is based on the 1991 case of Barnes vs. Glen Theatre, Inc., in which the Supreme Court weighed in on the legality of nude dancing — more specifically whether it can be considered free speech and thus be protected under the First Amendment.

Did we mention that one of the petitioners was the Kitty Kat Lounge in South Bend, Indiana?

Another selling point is that this is the latest project by Elevator Repair Service, which a couple of years ago scored an unlikely hit with “Gatz,” a seven-hour, word-for-word performance of “The Great Gatsby,” including every “he said” and “she said.”

At 85 minutes, “Arguendo” — a legal term meaning “for the sake of argument” — is considerably shorter than “Gatz.” But the M.O. remains the same as once again director John Collins and his troupe dramatize, often with brash humor, an unlikely text.

Here five actors take on several roles, including the dueling lawyers and the Justices themselves. Also appearing all-too-briefly is Rebecca Jackson (Maggie Hoffman), a saucy Michigan dancer concerned that Indiana’s restrictive law could spread to other states.

On the defense side is Indiana assistant district attorney Wayne E. Uhl (Ben Williams), who pleads for morality and claims that equating nude dancing and speech is trivializing the latter.

Arguing for the plaintiffs’ right to bare arms — and a whole lot more — is Bruce J. Ennis (Mike Iveson). “The State cannot categorically ban access to such speech by consenting adults,” he tells the court.

Collins keeps things moving, literally. The Justices (played by Iveson, Williams, Vin Knight and Susie Sokol) constantly wheel their office chairs around the stage. Behind them the official case transcript is projected on what looks like old-fashioned microfiches.

This goes a long way toward enlivening the nitpicky legalese that the lawyers deliver in a deliberately neutral tone of voice.

The single best part happens at the end.

Since the case revolves the issue of defining nude dancing as a means of communication, Collins seems to extend the discussion to the idea of theater itself. Can you turn any document into a play, even a law case? Can actors jumping and yelling seemingly randomly qualify as a show, and does nudity make that much of a difference?

Lo and behold, Iveson strips to a golden thong, black socks and dress shoes. Then he takes off the thong.

Case closed.