Weighty themes make play work

The plot to Terrence McNally’s “Lips Together, Teeth Apart” resembles, in basic outline, a silly sex farce:

•Two married couples are stuck in a beach house.

•One husband and the other wife are having a secret affair.

•The neighbors are all gay.

•Misunderstandings ensue.

But there the resemblance comes screeching to a halt. Nothing is remotely silly about “Lips Together, Teeth Apart” now playing at the Spokane Civic Theatre’s downstairs Firth Chew Studio Theatre.

In the second act, the play takes a particularly bleak, dark turn as these two couples deal with their own demons. McNally is as serious as a tumor – which is eating away at one of the characters.

And that’s what makes the Civic’s production superior, and far more difficult to dismiss, than any mere bedroom farce. McNally wrote this play during the most frightening years of the AIDS epidemic, and it’s not so much a commentary on love as it is about fear. The characters are afraid of AIDS, afraid of love and often afraid of one another, for good reason. They are, to put it charitably, a mess.

The Civic’s production, as directed by Wes Deitrick, mines both the play’s fear and its humor – and yes, there is plenty of humor. McNally is a master of banter, especially of the sarcastic variety. When the too-effervescent Chloe breaks into song one too many times, her husband, John, deadpans, “I’m married to Edith Piaf.”

A four-person ensemble shares the play equally: Melody Deatherage as Chloe Haddock, Ron Ford as Sam Truman, Dave Rideout as John Haddock and Amy Nathan as Sally Truman. Assessing performances is a bit difficult, considering that Deatherage took over the role a week before opening and was still carrying the script on opening night.

It’s not a good sign, however, when Deatherage’s line readings – script and all – were often more full of life and nuance than those of the other three actors. All three of the other actors had their powerful moments – especially in their monologues. All three created believable moments that served McNally’s script well. Yet, a certain flatness characterized many of the individual line readings, which robbed the play of a small percentage of its devastating power. I found myself wanting the actors to feel the words, not just say them.

Recurring monologues serve as vehicles for the characters to pour out their innermost fears and feelings. I wish Deitrick had done something, with either lights or staging, to more precisely delineate these monologues. Sometimes, I couldn’t tell whether a character was speaking in monologue or not. The difference is crucial, because in monologue, the other characters can’t hear.

Even so, “Lips Together, Teeth Apart” is loaded with dramatic meat. McNally’s themes include betrayal, weakness, bigotry, sex, disease and patriotism (it takes place on the Fourth of July). McNally has also managed to create a play about homosexuality in which we never actually see a gay character.

In the end, “Lips Together” is a riveting evening, just a little short of stunning. McNally’s seriousness of purpose almost seems like a rebuke to the silly sex farces it only superficially resembles. “Lips Together, Teeth Apart” is closer to reality, and sometimes reality is deadly serious.