‘5 Lesbians Eating a Quiche’ becomes an immersive experience in L.A.
Anxieties due to war. A culture inhospitable to LGBTQ+ communities. And an underpinning of loneliness and suppressed yearning.
The play “5 Lesbians Eating a Quiche” is set in 1956, but its themes resonate in 2026. The United States is at war. Attacks on gay marriage and other LGBTQ+ rights remain a cornerstone of today’s conservative movement. A reimagining of the 2011 production, one popular with universities and fringe festivals, seeks to further modernize the show in which a morning gathering quickly turns into a stay in a Cold War-era bomb shelter after near nuclear annihilation.
When I arrived at the back room of a Glendale church, I was given a new name. It was clear that “Todd” was not welcome here. “Joan” turned out to be a suitable replacement, and I was immediately asked how my life had been since my husband had died. For on this night I would no longer be occupying the role of a straight white male. Every audience member is asked to take on the persona of a widow, for losing a husband appeared to be a perquisite to enter this meeting of the Susan B. Anthony Society for the Sisters of Gertude Stein.
How did he die, I was asked. “Ski accident,” I blurted out. “Yours?” A camping travesty that led to a bear mauling, I was told. Ad-libbing, in addition to quiche, was on the menu tonight. Metaphors, absurdities and seriousness intermingle in this production from New Forms LA and directed by Marissa Pattullo.
Pattullo’s vision for “5 Lesbians Eating a Quiche” ramps up the interactivity, seeking to transform a largely traditional proscenium show, albeit one with a few moments of fourth-wall breaking, into one that is centered around audience participation. Staged in a flex space without a tinge of irony at the Glendale Church of the Brethren, “5 Lesbians,” written by Evan Linder and Andrew Hobgood, has been reconstructed as a largely immersive production, that is one that asks audiences to lean in and interact.
Jessica Damouni’s Ginny Cadbury devouring breakfast in “5 Lesbians Eating a Quiche,” a show that unfolds as a giant metaphor.
(New Forms LA)
While there is a small stage, it is used sparingly. The five-person cast roams the room, sitting at various circular tables to blur the lines between script and improvisation. Typically a svelte 75-minute show, on the night I saw the production it swelled to about two hours, allowing time for drinks, mingling and, of course, the eating of a quiche. Pattullo has added an intermission, with quiches courtesy of Kitchen Mouse and Just What I Kneaded included in the ticket.
For quiche, I was told often, was the primary topic of conversation at the Easter-timed meeting, so much so that it was clear within moments that this was a gathering not of breakfast enthusiasts but of the repressed. The hidden meaning is no secret; it’s in the title of the play.
“It’s a giant metaphor,” Pattullo, 30, says. The show, she adds, “keeps finding ways to make sense with the times, whether it’s Trump being elected, or we’re at war. Or gay marriage. All of those things. A bomb going off and being trapped inside. It speaks to whoever is watching it.”
Pattullo, who splits time building New Forms LA and serving tables at Los Feliz’s Little Dom’s, first discovered the show while in college in the Midwest. It immediately resonated, and Pattullo has been tinkering with ways to perform it live ever since. During the worst of the COVID-19 pandemic, she staged an online version of the show, and debuted it as an immersive production last winter. It’s back for two weekends this month.
“5 Lesbians” makes a relatively smooth transition to the immersive format. Perhaps that’s because the audience, in the script, is cast as attendees of the Susan B. Anthony Society for the Sisters of Gertude Stein’s brunch meeting, whose motto is “no men, no meat, all manners.” For about the first 30 minutes of the show we largely interact with the actors. Dale Prist (Nicole Ohara) has hidden ambitions. Vern Schultz (Chandler Cummings) seems ready for the group to cut its charade. Lulie Stanwyck (Noelle Urbano) is fighting so hard to stay prim and proper that she feels on the verge of bursting.
“I really like to play,” Pattullo says, referencing how “5 Lesbians” lends itself to improvisation. “Some of the girls I think are very ‘stick to the script.’ I’m like, ‘Stray from the script.’ If people come in late, call them out. If people are talking, call them out. You can adjust and improvise in immersive theater. Having a script but being able to break from it, is really fun for me. It tickles me.”
Wren Robin (Emily Yetter), Vern Schultz (Chandler Cummings) and Lulie Stanwyck (Noelle Urbano) protect breakfast in “5 Lesbians Eating a Quiche.”
(New Forms LA)
There’s an underlying tension in the show because it walks a line between silliness and graveness. Ultimately, “5 Lesbians” is about finding joy in dark times, and moments inspire uncomfortable laughter, such as jokes about gay marriage being legal in four years’ time (1960) or Ginny Cadbury (Jessica Damouni) devouring a quiche in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination. But it’s also a show about how stressful moments can bring about vulnerability and community, as the whole church practically exhaled when Wren Robbin (Emily Yetter) finally let her hair down and expressed who she truly was.
“5 Lesbians Eating a Quiche”
“Even when we did it back when I was in college, Trump had just won, so it just feels like it’s keeping relevant,” Pattullo says. The timeliness, she says, makes it such an amusing play to perform.
Pattullo will sometimes, depending on cast availability, take on a role in the show. It’s a chance, she says, to amplify the play’s wackiness, which she believes helps puts audiences at ease and makes its difficult subject matter easier to digest. She tries to create the most outlandish tale possible for when relaying to guests one on one how her husband perished.
“My story was a raccoon attack,” she says. “Because my husband thought the raccoon was behaving with foreign intent, like the raccoon was a spy or something. It was just stupid.”
Or it was evidence of how immersive theater can delight when it deviates from the script.
