"Bait" is up first and is the slighter of the two pieces, never quite transcending its sketch-comedy premise. Charlie, who has soured on men after a bad breakup, is dragged to an evening of speed dating by Justin, who thinks he needs to move on. Sisco gives us amusing riffs on a variety of gay stereotypes but also offers a few more-fleshed-out characters. When Charlie actually meets someone he likes and who returns his interest, however, Justin does his best to prevent it from going any further, leading to a rather forced climactic scene in which the two begin to confront their mutual attraction.
"Swish" leaps three years ahead. Charlie is living with Justin but about to leave for Boise, Ida., to housesit for his recently widowed Aunt Meredith while she visits his mother for an indeterminate period to get over her grief. While there, he plans to begin work on his second novel. It soon becomes clear that he is really fleeing his lover, due to Justin's recent suggestion of having a sexual three-way. Once in Boise, Charlie comes under the influence of rabidly gay-friendly Delores, a contemporary and friend of his aunt and a dynamic force in the conservative town. Soon Charlie is helping the locals to open a gay nightclub (called Swish, hence the title) while maintaining a polite distance from Justin. As Charlie, who hasn't written a line, starts to blossom in this new vocation and community, Justin waits anxiously to find out if he will ever return.
Sisco and Gualtieri are charming as hell, easy on the eyes, and very adept at lightning switches of character. Under Laura Josepher's canny, well-paced direction, they know how to walk right up to the line of comic caricature without crossing it. With nothing but four folding chairs and a few props on a tiny stage, the actors create two bustling worlds with winning ease. A particular highlight is Delores, who is beautifully delineated both by Sisco's fresh writing and Gualtieri's unerring acting.
I've had my eye on the steady stream of small shows, many of them solo outings, to be found at Stage Left Studio, which is run by Cheryl King, who is both artistic and managing director and often writes, directs, or acts herself. She's only the producer on "Bait 'n' Swish," but even so, with work as solidly enjoyable as this, I'm sure I'll be back.
Presented by and at Stage Left Studio, 214 W. 30th St., 6th floor, NYC. Jan. 19–Feb. 10. Thu. and Fri., 7:30 p.m. www.stageleftstudio.net.
