Inadmissible

It hasn't been a good few weeks for admissions in higher education. First Vassar College accidentally accepted a group of students only to quickly and gracelessly rescind the offer. Then Claremont McKenna College's attempt to move up in the oh-so-critical college rankings by inflating SAT score reports was exposed.

But no college has it as bad as Piedmont University, the fictional school at the center of "Inadmissible," where the admissions racket involves bribery, blackmail, backroom deals, and other forms of foul play. In its world premiere at Canal Park Playhouse, D.B. Gilles' new work is an over-the-top spoof of the shady side of the acceptance process, with moments of fun that unfortunately often stretch into periods of tedium.

Elaine (Kathryn Kates), the chair of the school's performing arts department (write what you know), is attempting to finalize the incoming class of graduate students with the help of fellow professor Martin (Richard Hoehler). When idealistic adjunct professor Joanna (Charise Greene) joins the committee, her belief that admissions should be determined by talent and merit is confronted by a stark new set of criteria for promising applicants: diversity, proper educational pedigree, and, above all, money to burn.

The tension in "Inadmissible" comes from the senior faculty's complete acceptance of this central tenet of the admissions process; their jaded views are intended to shock. Martin compares the committee to a British gentlemen's club: "no emotions, stiff upper lip, sipping brandy." But this is only a half-truth. "Compliments bore me. I want money," shrugs Martin, as if to underline how cold and cynical he can be. Yet he and his colleagues' single-minded pursuit of their own goals causes them to shatter their hard façades at all the wrong moments when their self-interest shows itself.

Kates' Elaine is the standout in this tightrope act of suppression. Strutting around the postage-stamp stage—the entire play takes place in Elaine's office—she seems to be the perfect department matriarch, by turns brusque and gentle but consistently poised. It makes the rare moment when she loses her cool a spine-tingling one.

This all comes together in a grim picture, one that Gilles paints with energy but not subtlety. In trying to cram in the twisting backstories and secret motivations for each of the three characters, his writing falls into the classic expository trap of telling, not showing. Although watching the feuding professors needle each other has a pleasing element of schadenfreude to it, their unchanging argument soon stagnates: Take my favorite candidate—or else. Even brisk direction by Sherri Eden Barber can't turn the tide, as a rehash of the same debate turns supposed intellects into bickering children. We get the point, but it can be tiresome getting there.

Presented by and at Canal Park Playhouse, 508 Canal St., NYC. Feb. 1–18. Wed.–Sat., 7:30 p.m. (212) 352-3101, (866) 811-4111, www.theatermania.com, or www.canalparkplayhouse.com.