Big Kids

Rapidly approaching their thirties, three friends and roommates must decide whether to pursue their dreams or more secure jobs. The Big Kids bunch includes a writer without any social insights and his fame-hungry roommates with acting ambitions. The problem is that, in order for us to care whether or not they sell out, we first have to believe that they have something of substance to offer.

The struggling actors in this equation are Jason (Gerry Vermillion) and Chaz (Bones Rodriguez). The former is an alpha male lunkhead who’s about to catch his big break on a soap opera and the latter is a young Cuban whose career is in turmoil. Jason spends most of his acting earnings to feed his cocaine habit; Chaz’s vice is t&a. Instead of honing his craft, the stallion focuses his energies on coaxing his girlfriend Daisy (Bellavia Mauro) into ménages a trios with the various women that he picks up in clubs.

Alan, played by playwright Alexander Dinelaris, is the protagonist and the supposed conscience of the three. He appreciates fine wine and the occasional classical symphony, and he has a steady girlfriend named Miranda. Conservative to the core, she wants Alan to accept a job at a restaurant, which would mean less time for him to write his opus. Unfortunately, the autobiographical dramatic material that Alan works with rings shallow because he has an underdeveloped sense of social injustice. For example, he points out that Jason’s blond-haired good looks might have helped him land his soap opera role but is at a loss to explain why Chaz is not asked to audition for the same role, chalking it up to the latter’s work ethic. The playwright misses the opportunity here for the sort of probing racial commentary that he sets up. In sitcom style, the privileged Jason is lovably mischievous and the ethnicity of Chaz and Daisy serves mainly to rehash stereotypes of the Latin sex god and his submissive mama.

Big Kids measures the virtue of its female characters according to their ability to support the men. Miranda (Darcie Siciliano) gets a two-dimensional treatment as a haughty, unsympathetic businesswoman who stands in the way of Alan’s growth. Daisy doesn’t particularly like the threesomes that Chaz pressures her into but she still locks lips with a blonde bombshell to help her boyfriend “feel more like a man.” (The playwright, who worked on the book and lyrics for the gay-fantasia musical Zanna, Don’t!, here treats lesbianism as a means to titillate the boys.) In another scene, Chaz’s former manager, Tara (Stacy Wallace), tells Daisy that her beau feels too safe in their relationship to compete in the acting world rather than blaming his career troubles on the personal weaknesses and social barriers that stand in his way. The most self-realized of the women is the aforementioned blonde (Nicola Riske), who turns out to be a Stanford grad, but even she lets the others condescend to her.

While the play fails to provide insight into the artistic drive, its broad comedy makes for some escapist entertainment. Dinelaris the writer has a knack for the natural rhythms of language, a quality that also makes him a natural and appealing actor. His dialogue is punchy and often smart. Still, there’s a tendency toward easy humor and lots of puns on the word “come.” The personality-driven acting shows that most of the cast has plenty of charm, and Mark Steven Robinson’s smooth direction keeps the production light and lively. The set, designed by Colin Miles Campbell is functional but not particularly inspired.

The title Big Kids advertises the arrested development of the main characters but the play’s ultimate vision of character growth is based on crude ideas of success. That, more than anything, indicates an artistic immaturity in the writing.