The relationship between a homosexual window dresser and an angst-filled Marxist revolutionary would be interesting in any setting.
When placed against the backdrop of political turmoil in Latin America and confined to a jail cell, however, the story is both infused with the spice of tango and heightened by the desperation of those in captivity.
"Kiss of the Spider Woman," directed by Natasha Badillo '03, charts the growing bond of two men under extraordinary circumstances — the flamboyant Molina (Rakesh Satyal '02), imprisoned for sexual indecencies with a minor, and the cynical Valentin (Ben Beckley '03), locked up because of his radical political views.
Thrown into a jail cell together, Molina attempts to forge a friendship and is rudely rebuffed. Valentin prefers to suffer in silence and solitude.
Molina's coping mechanisms differ greatly. Subjected to physical torture and psychological manipulation, Molina finds solace in the glamorous world of the movies.
His savior is Aurora (played by Devin Sidell '02) — a '40s-era film siren whose movies Molina adores, able to recount every word of every scene and every note of every song. He conjures up images of her movies as a mental escape from the horrors of prison life. Molina adores all her films. All, that is — except for one.
His beloved Aurora once portrayed the Spider Woman, a figure signifying death.
Molina believes that the Spider Woman exists in reality, lurking in the prison and enticing prisoners to partake of her fatal kiss. Molina spends the musical fearing that kiss, finally coming to terms with his own mortality in the end.
Satyal's flamboyancy as Molina brings a touch of humor into the dreariness of the jail cell and his pure, strong voice is a welcome contrast with his surroundings, but he is truly at his best when freed from the artifice of a stereotypical queen.
While watching Sidell as Aurora, Satyal is completely enraptured by her performance, absent-mindedly mouthing the familiar words as she sings. Moments like these provide a revealing glimpse into Molina's psyche and Satyal plays it to perfection, with truly organic adoration.
Beckley's Valentin plays nicely off Satyal's lighter Molina. His highly-stylized voice is ideal for the most intense moments of the musical, bringing a great deal of strength to numbers such as "Over the Wall" and "The Day After That." It is a difficult part to tackle and Beckley does so with gusto.
Sidell, always a pleasure to watch on stage, comes alive as the film icon and yet again, gives an absolutely sparkling performance. Sidell has incredible physical control and Aurora's dance routines (choreographed by Amanda Brandes '02) take full advantage of this precision.

Her physical transformation into the Spider Woman is also remarkable. Even her vocal transition is marked as she switches between characters — with a powerful belt for Aurora and more of a husky quality for the Spider Woman.
The production peaks in two places, on opposite ends of the emotional spectrum. "Dear One" is a gorgeous quartet comprised of Molina's mother (Aliza Kennerly '04), Valentin's girlfriend Marta (Melissa Poulos '02, whose stunning voice makes one wish she had more stage time), Molina and Valentin.
The merging of these four actors in a very simple emotional song is the highlight of the first act.
The second-act opener is "Good Times," a scene from one of Aurora's films in which she plays a Russian aristocrat. Sidell is hysterically over-the-top with her Russian accent and bad-silent-film acting and this is compounded by Satyal's physical mirroring of the movie's death scene. Both comic and stirring, this scene is a perfect example of Badillo's nuanced directing.
The set (designed by Alexander Tepper '01) is adorned with revolution-inspired graffiti, and the use of side-lighting (by Noemi Millman '03) evokes the ambiance of a dingy and dark jail cell.
The costumes (by Caroline Barnard '02 and Elizabeth Berg '04) are stunning — from Aurora's glamorous gowns to Marta's gorgeous red ankle boots — highlighting the difference between their decadence and the squalor of the prison.
Though the lighting occasionally casts shadows on the actor's faces at crucial moments and the pit falls a bit off key, all the elements of Badillo's production work together to create a powerful atmosphere.
In the small space of the Blackbox, the audience is invited into the story by that atmosphere. Much as Molina is drawn into the movies of his Aurora, we are drawn into this production, lost in the myth of the Spider Woman's fatal kiss.