Hello Again

In the mood for some bawdy cabaret? Then head over to the BCA and partake in Bridge Repertory Theater of Boston's production of Michael John Lachiusa's "Hello Again," a modern take on the Arthur Schnitzler play from 1897 "La Ronde."

Back in the day, Schnitzler's play ignited an uproar of indignation and led to accusations that Schnitzler had authored a pornographic work. Anger over the play's subject matter -- which made the point that sex breaks down social and class barriers -- also focused on the fact that Schnitzler was Jewish.

One might have expected Lachiusa's modern take to touch upon another facet of sexuality's comprehensive reach, namely the wildfire spread of HIV in the last few decades, but this riff on the original prefers instead to focus on other maladies: Sexual confusion, sexual shame, a macho "love and leave" attitude. As in "La Ronde," these ten characters don't have names; they have generic labels such as The Whore, The Soldier, The Young Thing, and so forth, the better to underscore both the universality of sexuality and its associated conundrums, not to mention the depersonalizing effects of casual hookups.

That's mostly what we have here -- sex that takes place in passing, sometimes furtively and sometimes in the open. These ten characters careen through the decades of the 20th century, with the play depicting one encounter for each of those ten decades. But the stories here do not follow a linear chronology; the book is much more imaginative than that. The Whore (Lauren Eicher) offers her wares free of charge to The Soldier (Sean Patrick Gibbons); The Soldier, headed to war the next morning, sweet talks The Nurse (Aubin Wise); The Nurse seduces a College Boy (Andrew Spatafora) with a twisted ankle; the College Boy amuses himself with a fling with the Young Wife (Sarah Talbot), a liaison that entails a blow job in a seedy movie theater. The Young Wife and The Husband (Jared Dixon) dress in their starchiest clothes to attend the Opera, but get sidetracked by talk of loose woman (and what seems to be a session of mutual masturbation and voyeurism); The Husband goes down on the Titanic, but not before The Young Thing (Spatafora) goes down on him; and the Young Thing makes it to New York, where he's cruised in a gay bar by The Writer (Gibbons). After a few further iterations the loop closes -- with, ahem, a Senator (Dixon) meeting up with the Whore.

The clock hands spin as erratically as a bottle in the middle of a ring of horny teenagers, jumping from the early 1900s to the 1940s to the 1960s to the sinking of the Titanic and, from there, to the disco era. The music and lyrics (also by book writer LaChiusa) may take some influence from the different times in which the assignations occur, but for the most part the score sounds like jazz of a dark and wild strain, and the words follow suit.

Even better is the choreography by Stephen Ursprung: Deft, fluid, funny, and expressive, the cast's movements sketch out sexual positions and emotional colors from panting lust to tentative optimism, and from compassion to animal rut.

Three musicians -- Colin Fleming, Thomas Carroll, and Mindy Cimini, who also serves as musical director -- handle the musical duties; I was surprised that there were only the three of them, because the music never sounded thin or underserved.

Costumer Kathleen Doyle fits the characters in period-appropriate garb and has some fun while she's at it. (The Whore's dress is suitably provocative, but not indecently so; the College Boy is kitted out with a sweater and glasses, in perfect stereotype; The Nurse sports a uniform as crisp as her initial reservations.)

The production makes full use of the venue, Hall A in the Stanford Calderwood Pavilion at the Boston Center for the Arts. The intimate space is set up as a cabaret, complete with a bar in the far corner. But take note: This isn't Oberon, so you'll have to go to the bar downstairs if you want a drink, and once you have it, you might need to keep it firmly in hand since the tables and chairs are subject to being whisked away by the actors. This is, to paraphrase a quote, their space; we're just visiting it.

But the time you'll spend in that world is such a whirl of song and movement, and such a flurry of funny, poignant encounters that you won't need a drink at all to feel that you've left ordinary reality behind.

"Hello Again" continues through March 29 at the BCA. For tickets and more information, please visit www.bostontheatrescene.com or phone 917-633-8600.