"No, I'd rather not. I'm gay."
Well, not quite that fast. But with minimal foreplay, this writer makes your head spin trying to comprehend a plot that runs something like - Robert's in love with Mark who's in love with Stephen who's in love with David who doesn't love anyone until he realizes he really loves Nina, who's no longer in love with Terri, who is in love with Nina until she realizes she really loves Delilah.
Give the author credit for keeping track of all these permutations ("from A to KY") and for some very funny lines and situations.
Rich Bernatovech playing the bisexual (and very well acted) Stephen overcame his character's impossible narcissism to become adorable; while Scott Wood, as the gay Lothario David, was cute enough, but looked about as likely to fuck around as a younger elder of the Mormon Church.
The lesbian Nina (a feminine Laurena Allan), while proposing marriage, promises to strap on dildos and wear sweaters to simulate a hairy chest for David - just to get him in bed.
Why, if she's a lesbian? Because a one-night stand with Stephen made her suddenly go straight? Not only is that hokum, it sounds politically incorrect.
Alicia Ocana as Delilah shouldn't be faulted for the logic excluded from her character; and John Borras as Mark had the dubious pleasure of showing us an imaginary scene with an unrequited lover, then showing us what really happened. The scenes were indistinguishable.
Constance Longobardo as Terri bickered too much, but settled down at a bar with Mark-Alan as the delightfully funny Robert, who fashions aglets for a living. (Don't underestimate their value - try tying your shoes without aglets!)
The author, wearing a director's hat, tended to illustrate, instead of freeing the actors to animate themselves. Thus, someone mentions dancing, and - ally-oop - a fox trot. But no one travels anywhere, and the idea just dies.
Wearing still another hat, this auteur worked lights, trying for an occasional effect, with minimal instruments and results. His hopeless excuse for a set included such features as wrinkled contact paper simulating wood.
Costumes included Robert's ugly Army shoes, Mark's tasteful Mickey Mouse tie, and Nina's pathetically pink wedding dress, which will never do.
It took eight scenes to deliver the payoff, at which point the play sprang to life sufficiently to solidly amuse the capacity audience - which goes to show what talent, friends, and a weekend photo in the New York Times will do.
A bit of banging on this not untalented theatre artist's head by a ruthless director might someday produce a worthwhile play.
Copyright 1999 Marshall Yaeger