I consider myself a Bartell enthusiast. I’ve even started to volunteer there. It’s a down-the-street alternative to oftentimes expensive Overture escapades, and what’s more? For about the price of a movie ticket, you can be in the room while the story takes place. Sounds like a good deal to me. Like a movie theatre, and unlike many performance spaces, the Bartell actually lets you bring food and drink into the theatre; a great comfort to busy patrons.

I ventured to see Pulp at the end of a long day. I was stressed out. I just wanted friendly personable service and a great show, and that’s exactly what I got. Even when I rushed to my seat, hardly containing my casual anticipation, the usher calmly caught up with me and noted with a charming smile that I “got away” from her. She tore my ticket and I was whisked away to a distant land unscathed by the alterations time and children’s history books can make. I was in a 1950’s pulp novella.

Pulp follows Terry Logan of Logan, Texas (adeptly crafted by Sue Carnell), an unrestrainedly butch lesbian who’s been through hell both on and off the battlefield, as she acclimates herself into an underground culture of queer and queer friendly entertainers in a juicy little downstairs cabaret hall in the heart of Chicago. The comfortable and always sexy group of pinup lesbians and drag kings who people the place welcome Terry with open arms; hoping she’ll stick around in an era they’ve labeled a prohibition of different sorts. Truly, even deadly serious comments on the persecution of folks deemed “non-normative” by “society’s” standards are handled effortlessly with a humorous grace that only makes the show more enjoyable. Curious homophobic folk would do well to check out this show. Understanding what makes something funny can easily be the first step toward the appreciation of that very thing you fear. The atmosphere Stage Q creates is always friendly regardless of background or orientation, and this particular production keenly embodies the pulp lust and love of fifties lore (queer or straight) that beckons strong images in almost everyone with a pulse… and all without the gratuitous violence and gore of similarly titled Quentin Tarantino works.

The relationships are clearly communicated, as well as clearly complicated. As one character points out, “Isn’t there always [a history]?” Whether grappling with her identity, pining away or contemplating her most recently jilted ex, each lady presses forward with sexy pulp fiction savvy.

Dana Pellebon’s sultry jazz numbers, as Vivian, sparkle. She literally sneaks up on you at the start of the second scene and continues to slink in when you don’t expect her for the rest of the show, but she quietly steals your attention and Terry’s too. She seduces you just the same, because you are merely an invisible aspect of her surroundings.

The plight of Esther Nitz is also quiet notable. Played by Mary-Elizabeth Pasquesi, Esther is a seemingly average though flighty straight girl who likes to dress up like a boy and shoot her gun. She is completely admirable and adorable all at once. As her drag king persona, Winchester Cox, she is not only completely convincing as a guy… she’s a freaking hot guy at that. She is evocative of an air of sexuality contemporarily achieved by Christian Bale. Miss Pasquesi personifies a universal charge in the conversations of lovers of any orientation. This show loves to cloud physical gender identity, and is sure to make even the straightest women out there go, “Oooo!” when they least expect it. Be ready to remind yourself that those hot guys you see are just women doing it better. The women in drag in this show successfully embody the sensual quality of men of the 1950’s. When another character stumbles into a drag act she woos the audience with a zeal that is comparable with Gene Kelly.

Peering back so far and considering it’s not so far as we think, the show lovingly showcases the strengths and similarities of normative love and love “outside the box”. I don’t usually condone the use of bad puns, but when having to make comparisons to “normative” culture, I can’t help but feel bitter in the word’s establishment of the “other” as “non-normative”. This show reminded me that in this completely messed up world, there is no normative center; there never has been. It’s all just been pulp, and we’ve been in the thick of it all along. It must be noted, I did sit a little to the left in the center section. It’s true. The view is better a little to the left. Well, that’s my opinion…

Pulp has performances March 21, 22, 27, 28, 29. Tickets run $10 for Thursday shows and $15 for Friday and Saturday shows. The Bartell is located at 113 E Mifflin St. For more information, call the box office (661-9696 ext 3) or visit their web site http://www.stageq.com .