Frankie and Johnny in the Clair De Lune

One of Terrence McNally's earliest hits is receiving its first Philadelphia performance in years. It's a welcome revival. Its extended (no pun intended) full frontal nudity no longer shocks, partly because this production features 40-ish lovers of average looks and imperfect bodies. These are real people, not glamorous stars like Al Pacino and Michelle Pfeiffer of the movie version. They've just finished having sex as the play begins, and now they start to get to know each other. Though both are battle-scarred -- he's a divorced father -- he is eager for a relationship and she's resistant. For two acts they thrust and parry. The play is twice as long as the movie and much more sexually explicit. But it's not prurient.

One of McNally's points is that understanding of another person is much more important than the sexual act. This is a touching look at two people who can't quite find a common soul.

Mark Jacobson is wonderful as the guy who's eager despite past history and present obstacles. But Aileen McCulloch as Frankie pouts and complains and makes one wonder why Johnny bothers to keep coming on, so to speak. When they tumble back into the sack in act two it strains credulity. Director Hayman and McCulloch should have supplied us with some hint of mutual attraction. The problem is McNally's as much as it is the actress's; Frankie is underwritten, whereas Johnny is one of the most sympathetically written characters of the past two decades. I never fully realized that until I saw Jacobson in the part.