The duality of the love triangles is matched by dual literary allusions: to the Passion of Christ as well as to Romeo and Juliet. For the school play, Peter is cast as Romeo's best friend Mercutio (for those who, like me, know the plot best through West Side Story, think Riff) while Matt plays Romeo's killer, Tybalt (Bernardo). The school's priest is no Friar Lawrence, though, and fails Jason when the boy comes looking for help with his sexual and affectional confusion.
If the Romeo and Juliet parallels aren't enough, the religious symbols ought to be. With the Cross hanging over the entire proceedings, you could think of Jason as Jesus, Matt as Judas and Peter as Simon Peter (the character's full name is Peter Simonds, but oddly the authors have Jason deny Peter rather than the reverse). The writers even have the nerve to include a lyric sung by Peter's mother, right after his unwelcome coming out to her, in which she remembers him as a "child who lay in his cradle so tender and mild." Authors Damon Intrabartolo and Jon Hartmere, Jr. are really asking for it here. If you're going to compare your characters' struggles with those of Shakespeare's protagonists, let alone Christ and the disciples, you'd better have something more to offer than this rehash of familiar themes of coming out, teenage sex and the sometime failure of the clergy to provide comfort and guidance when it's most needed.
Coming out and religious disillusionment have been done before, and this well-intentioned, earnest piece doesn't add much insight beyond the many novels and plays that have dealt with these topics. The one new theme bare touches - the plight of the gay or sexually confused teen who can pass as straight - merits more attention than it's given in this mélange of teenage sexual and religious conflict struggles for self-esteem. It doesn't help that the production's Jason, Don Denton, doesn't fully mine the complexity of the character who isn't ready to give up his golden boy image for the marginalization he'd likely experience after coming out. It might have been more interesting had they cast their Matt, Courtney Crouse, as Jason. Crouse gives a nicely nuanced performance as a decent-enough straight guy who reveals Jason and Peter's affair in a fit of jealousy, plus he has a mightily impressive singing voice. Jay Reynolds, Jr. lends a fine voice to the part of Peter, but is hamstrung by the script's portrayal of him as the sort of bland gay martyr that's all too common in pieces like this. Kristin Johnson and Kathleen Gibson do nice work as the troubled Ivy and her lonely roommate Nadia.
As written, this is not necessarily a story that needed to be told, let alone sung. And if it needed to be sung, it needed a better score than this one. It's rhythmic and has tons of energy, but most of the songs are relentlessly self-important and bleak. A few of the ballads break through, but the soul number "911-Emergency" sung by the Virgin Mary and two angels, and a gospel number ("God Don't Make No Trash") sung by the sassy African-American nun drama teacher Sister Chantelle (Michele Cason) are too-obvious attempts for comic relief.
While the score is pretty tedious, it is exceedingly well sung by Bailiwick's cast, under the musical direction of James Morehead and Robert Ollis. Director David Zak and Choreographer Christie Kerr keep the youthful cast moving in a way that establishes a sense of unbounded energy with inadequate outlets for it. Certainly, the show has had its cult following over the years and it may well have resonance with those who have experienced similar situations in their recent lives, but for audiences who longer-ago experienced these passages in life and literature, there's not much additional insight.