Chosen

What happens when good intentions, self-righteousness, egotism and cluelessness collide? This workshop production offers ample demonstration.

That this show is about violence against homosexuals is  trumpeted loudly. The program informs us the entire run is a "benefit performance" for funds honoring Matthew Shepard, Teena Brandon and Sakia Gunn.A notice in the program warns that "Some who have  previewed the script for Chosen may have found it too unsettling. So, we must warn you that some of you today may find parts of Chosen a bit too raw and unpalatable. We must remind you that any crime of hate, not  just those against gays, are in themselves..raw and unpalatable-and we,  as artists, create, not life, but merely it's reflection.[sic]

The creators' bios percolate with similar self-congratulation. And so, braced against a gritty reality that "some" "may" not quite be able to handle, the audience witnesses a truly dumb musical comedy that hauls out every hackneyed cliche about  gay coupling, produced and directed with startling incompetence (although the piano playing by Musical Director Robby Stamper is first-rate and the actors, for the most part, demonstrate talent and commitment). The show itself is as "raw" as an overcooked burger, and offers even less to chew on. Chosen is primarily about two gay couples: one male, one female. Dominick, played by the single-named Florenciana (a very appealing performer with a weak voice, despite a Who's Who plug about cutting an album), has a crush on Blake, a gorgeous blonde guy at the gym. He  believes Blake (Rob Karp, in a promising NY debut) is straight or in the closet, so his best pal Jessi (played by the always splendid Kaiti Carpenter, whose worldwide singing credits are no joke) advises him to stay away, or at least to approach very slowly. The number that ensues, "Knock Knock," about seducing the closeted, is a set piece that is in no way followed up by anything in Dom and Blake's storyline. Typical of the show's pacing, cloyingly cute riffs in the song are repeated four times each (when two stretched this viewer's patience). Later, however, Nick and Blake share a lovely duet, "Here I Am," although I can't say how it related to their story.

Our lesbian story is about Jessi and her girlfriend Sara (Elizabeth Bowden), who is genuinely in the closet. Four scenes are devoted to exploring this problem, culminating in...nothing, although Jessi and Sara also share a very pretty duet, called "Home," which advances their story not one micron. The two love duets are the only highlights of the show.

In what seems a tacked-on subplot, a nice, sad, closeted man named  Michael (played with very touching grace by Brian Ballone) is in love with another man. Michael also has a friend named Victor (Jim Longo, who does the best he can with a monstrous character), who calls him "faggot" on the phone when he believes Michael is reluctant to hang out in the Village to "pick up chicks" because he has spent the night with a woman. Victor, with Michael's anguished assistance, then murders Dominick  while he's out for a walk with Jessi, after Jessi, who has fought for openness, denies to Victor that she's gay, while Dominick, who has not particularly addressed this issue in the play, chooses having a knife in his throat as the literally fatal moment to make a stand about it. The end.

Apparently, when straight people say "pick up chicks," that's code for "mug people," because Michael doesn't seem at all surprised about Victor's pulling a knife on the couple. And apparently, a "raw" piece of theater is one that stereotypes all of  its characters, straight and gay, into unremarkable caricatures but ends with a murder, because the audience (100 percent of whom are attending because they believe the piece deals honestly with anti-gay violence) needs to be shocked into realizing this is how the world works: Male-female couples in the Village get attacked, asked if they're gay, and murdered if they say yes. Why would Victor bring a friend who doesn't hate gays along to hunt gays in the Village, then zero in on a mixed-gender couple? Why does Michael's character exist? These are only two of several Lincoln-Tunnel-sized holes in the plot. The creators apparently believe this chaotic and cutesy/tragic method is how to extend "Compassion for All People Everywhere (Not Just Gay  People) who are victims of Hate Crime!", as producer-author-composer-lyricist Suzanne McCoy's bio puts it. Unfortunately, despite all the noble intentions - as polemic, it's pointless and silly, and as art it's even worse.