BISEXUAL SADNESS is about what it sounds like. Faye is getting married to a man. The best man. A man whom she loves and who loves her. But as Faye prepares to marry him, she begins to grieve. The community that embraced her when she was the girlfriend of Genevieve, the sturdy, charming butch who helmed her college’s LGBT scene, has taken on an attitude of something halfway between resentment and indifference. It...
BISEXUAL SADNESS is about what it sounds like. Faye is getting married to a man. The best man. A man whom she loves and who loves her. But as Faye prepares to marry him, she begins to grieve. The community that embraced her when she was the girlfriend of Genevieve, the sturdy, charming butch who helmed her college’s LGBT scene, has taken on an attitude of something halfway between resentment and indifference. It’s breaking Faye’s heart. When Faye’s older sister Miranda, whose cheating-scoundrel husband has recently left her for a woman half her age moves in along with Faye’s niece Naomi, a precocious 12-year-old questioning their gender, deeper themes of identity, choice, and intergenerational change emerge.
BISEXUAL SADNESS is about the inconvenience of fluidity, the legacy of recently-assimilated marginalized identity, and the uncomfortable tensions between personal and social identity. Faye has reaped the benefits of the gay rights movement and used it to marry a man. Now she’s suffering the consequences.
Deftly illustrating bisexual women’s fragile place within contemporary queer communities alongside universal questions of love and belonging, BISEXUAL SADNESS is a play for the progressive 21st century in all its liberated, solipsistic glory. Faye’s mourning is cringe. It’s B.S. It’s Bisexual Sadness.