The Vagina Monologues - New Theatre, clap your hands, open your legs, wash your mouths out with soap, and be prepared for sidesplitting tales relating to female genitalia in The Vagina Monologues. Happy vaginas, sad vaginas, old vaginas, young vaginas, angry vaginas, timid vaginas, talking vaginas, shy vaginas, wise vaginas, immature vaginas, fashion-conscious vaginas, vaginas of the world and vaginas that have never packed a suitcase, this show covers the whole gamut, without an anatomical fold left unexplored.

The Vagina Monologues consists of a varying number of stories that its writer, Eve Ensler, developed from a series of interviews that she had conducted in the mid-1990s. Each story is related to the vagina in some way; be it through sex, love, rape, menstruation, mutilation, masturbation, birth, orgasm, the variety of names for the vagina, or simply as a physical aspect of the female body. Well-attended, this particular show included the following material:

Hair - About the interviewee and her husband's relationship with her pubic hair.
The Flood - A nightmare of orgasmic proportions.
The Vagina Workshop - A woman exploring her genitalia.
Because He Liked To Look At It - A woman feeling empowered by her lover's voyeuristic fascination of her vagina.
My Angry Vagina - A vagina angry at the rigours of being.
My Vagina Was My Village - A heart-wrenching tale of rape victims in Bosnia.
The Little Coochie Snorcher That Could - How a lesbian experience helped a young girl overcome her fear of her vagina after being domestically abused.
Reclaiming The Cunt - Empowering oneself against the way that language can be used to oppress.
The Woman Who Loved To Make Vaginas Happy - A dominatrix's recount of pleasuring women.
And finally, I Was There In The Room - Giving birth, graphically recounted.

Each of these Monologues were recounted with humour and vigour by the three actresses, although a mention must go to the beautifully-written and heart-wrenching account of Bosnian rape victims, their harrowing experiences paralleled metaphorically with the loss of their homes. Amongst the obvious comedic elements, there was undeniable humanity in the writing, and it was to the show's credit that it could coax both laughter and tears to such a degree. I was quite surprised at the lack of a Germaine Greer-style feminist rant, which I don't feel would necessarily be out of place in this context, but what does exist is a thoroughly empowering experience, to both women and men.