As Is (Key Productions)

[December 12th, 2007]

I’m of two minds about William M. Hoffman’s 1985 drama about the burgeoning AIDS epidemic and its effect on the lives of an infected writer and his loved ones. On the one hand, it broke important dramatic ground, smashing some idiotic stereotypes and helping to bring new attention to the then-mysterious disease (the viral cause of which had just been identified when the play opened); on the other, it opened the doors to the parade of grossly sentimental, self-obsessed plays that dominated New York theater for 10 years.

It’s a challenging show to take on for both reasons, and I was surprised to hear that Troy Lakey’s Key Productions—a very new company that aspires to fill the queer theater niche that’s been empty since Don Horn abandoned all artistically interesting work to focus on class acts like Bark! The Musical and Tonya&Nancy: The Rock Opera —had chosen it for their second production. It’s also just the third directing project for longtime Portland actor Michael Mendelson. Worrisome, right?

All things considered, though, it’s a pretty good production, well-cast and competently acted throughout. Mendelson’s direction favors too much melodramatic shouting, but he’s created some very nice blocking and held a few of the script’s more maudlin moments in check. Although David Berkson is somewhat emotionally flat as Rich, a volatile and dying gay writer, Michael Teufel gives a fine performance (when he’s not yelling) as Rich’s former lover and caretaker, Saul. The supporting actors similarly range from decent to good. It’s not a great staging, but certainly above average for Portland, and it’s further proof that Lakey means business.

For all its gushy relationship drama, As Is is perhaps most useful as a historical document. What was at one point a foreign language of T-cells, retroviruses and suppressors has become the everyday vocabulary of a plague that’s gone from mysterious to mundane and now—as we slowly gain ground against the virus at home and infection prevalence in southern African nations tops 25 percent—seems destined to once again be someone else’s problem. It’s good, and necessary, to be reminded of the terrifying early days, lest our familiarity with the disease breed indifference and we let the less fortunate die unaided.