Burn This

Lanford Wilson's brooding love story returns to the theater where it premiered in 1987. Under the sensitive direction of Nicholas Martin here, it remains a resonant seriocomic portrait of grief and loss, paralyzing self-doubt, and the restorative power of love. Thanks to an accomplished four-member ensemble, Wilson's delicate mix of rueful romance and incisive character comedy becomes a memorable and moving experience.

Dancer-choreographer Anna (Zabryna Guevara) and her gay roommate Larry (Brooks Ashmanskas) have returned to their Manhattan apartment, following the out-of-town funeral of Robbie, her creative collaborator and their roommate, who died in a boating accident. A curve ball is thrown into the slowly developing romance between Anna and Burton (Ken Barnett), a wealthy filmmaker, when Robbie's homophobic elder brother Pale (Adam Rothenberg) arrives late one night, banging on Anna's door—rowdy, intoxicated, and a complete mess. He has belatedly responded to Anna's calls to retrieve Robbie's belongings.

Anna is at first repelled by this boorish stranger, who nonetheless manages to seduce her. The play intelligently explores the comfort zone of platonic relationships that Anna and Larry have settled into, set against the mixed-up emotions of cynical Pale, an unhappily married man whose belligerence and bravado mask a suppressed vulnerability. Self-reflection and change become inevitable for all of the characters as the story moves to a heartrending conclusion.

As the volatile Pale, a swaggering paragon of danger reminiscent of Stanley Kowalski, Rothenberg gives a marvelously nuanced performance, brimming with vigor and ironic wit. The actor superbly conveys the raw passion that drives this man and gradually intrigues Anna, drawing her out of her protective shell. The excellent Guevara deftly depicts Anna's attempts to project an aura of serenity and control, as she feels the mounting pressures of grief, insecurity, and emotional confusion.

Ashmanskas gets most of the funny lines, delivering them with clockwork precision, ultimately making a convincing segue from flippancy to poignancy. Barnett lends sublime support as a seemingly kind and earnest man forced to recognize that life can be messier than it appears to be.

Ralph Funicello's towering set, a classy depiction of an urban loft apartment, is breathtaking; it's finely complemented by Ben Stanton's lighting. These designs greatly enhance the play's shifting moods, as does Peter Golub's original music. Wilson died March 30, leaving an indelible legacy of outstanding work. This lovingly crafted production seems a fitting testament to a theater artist who will be greatly missed.

Presented by Center Theatre Group at the Mark Taper Forum, 135 N. Grand Ave., L.A. Apr. 3–May 1. Tue.–Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 2:30 & 8 p.m.; Sun., 1 & 6:30 p.m. (213) 628-2772. www.centertheatregroup.org.