Review: Provocatively staged 'Fat Pig' reveals heavy-duty prejudices

We'd like to believe in the egalitarian ideal of a society where everyone is judged by their character — not the way they look. In his 2004 play, "Fat Pig," stage and film auteur Neil LaBute blows that myth to smithereens.

The provocative "Fat Pig" is getting an aptly in-your-face staging in ArtAttack Ensemble Theater's intimate new Capitol Hill venue.

The script follows a familiar LaBute stratagem. Passive young men are confronted with the bigoted cruelty of their peers (mostly, but not only, male peers), and slammed with a choice: Go along to get along. Or dare to defy peer pressure and act like a mensch.

The dilemma facing "Fat Pig's" bland, handsome businessman Tom (Martyn G. Krouse) will resonate with any woman attuned to our culture's tyrannical obsession with female slenderness — which is, nearly all women.

After an aimless string of casual romances, Tom meets a librarian named Helen (Rachel Permann) by chance. She's bright, sensuous, charming, accomplished. And she is Rubens-model plump, and more insecure about it than she'd like to be.

LaBute quickly busts the notion that zaftig gals don't attract interesting guys. Permann and Krouse, under Justin Lockwood's direction, stoke up a very believable erotic chemistry and mutual affection, a joy for the lonely Helen and chronically noncommital Tom.

Fine and dandy, right? Not. To follow through with Helen, Tom has to fend off the toxic influence and wretched taunts of co-workers: his schlubby prankster pal Carter (Lockwood), whose female fat phobia extends to his own mother, and Jeannie (Lisa Every), Tom's angry ex-lover.

Tom is repelled by their behavior — but not immune to their influence.

The shock value here, and in other LaBute morality tales (i.e., "The Company of Men"; "reasons to be pretty") lies not just in the everyday venality he depicts and harsh dilemma he poses, but also in the frank, ugly language people hurl when airing their prejudices.

Carter may be polite to Helen's face, but in the office he asks Tom, "How are you supposed to love something that looks like that?"

And Jeannie is venomous in her outrage. Being jilted over a woman who isn't (allegedly) as attractive as she is deepens her own insecurity.

The ferociousness and relentlessness of their disgust may be overdoing it. And LaBute hammers home some points repeatedly, in a long train of short scenes at times hobbled by flat dialogue.

The character development is inconsistent: Krouse struggles to flesh out his vacuous role, while Every falls back on a narrow repertoire of angry mannerisms.

But Lockwood's obnoxious Carter ultimately reveals a surprising level of self-awareness. Permann mines every smart, touching nuance of Helen.

Whatever the flaws of "Fat Pig," it's hard to deny LaBute is onto something here — something ugly, discomfiting and recognizable. There's an audience discussion after every performance, if you want to stick around and talk about it.

Misha Berson: mberson@seattletimes.com