A few thousand years ago, Socrates famously said, "The unexamined life is not worth living." In The Paris Letter, playwright Jon Robin Baitz creates a variation on this ancient wisdom as the principal protagonists spend more time examining each other's lives than their own. While significant dramatic events swirl about these two longtime friends, their one-on-one dialogues scrutinizing decisions made long ago are at the heart of this 2004 play now at New Conservatory Theatre Center.
The Paris Letter is a talky play, no matter that flashbacks are interwoven with contemporary scenes taking place in numerous locales on Devin Kasper's rococo set. But it is intelligent, thoughtful talk that Baitz has provided, and while the playwright's sympathies become clear enough, the opposing side in the crucial debate is treated with empathy, understanding, and even occasional gusts of agreement.
The Paris Letter explores a time not often seen in plays exploring how homosexuals decide to live their lives. Instead of coping with the repression of most of the 20th century or figuring out how to lead a life free of guidelines in these current times, Baitz has set the pivotal moments of this play at the time when gay liberation was coming into view but traditional lifestyles still provided the safer societal route. Upon this cusp, two young men slide down its opposite sides, but still maintain a durable if often testy bond through the years.
There are moments of frivolity and sardonic wit in the play, but The Paris Letter is largely serious business. If the stage directions lean toward the static – much of the time the characters are sitting at restaurant tables for their earnest discussions – director George Maguire sustains an intensity that does not require superfluous business. The play is not all philosophical talk; there are suicide, financial scandals, wrenching illness, and even a kindly case of murder.
Maguire's actors bring focused dedication to their roles, most enjoyably from an emcee of sorts who sets up the scenes before taking a central role in them. Tom Reilly is the master of a knowing glance, a raised eyebrow, and a spiced bon mot as he plays Anton, who has opted for an openly gay life of sufficient contentedness. As his chum and onetime lover Sandy, who has opted for wife, family, and big-league finances, Ron Dritz is a companionable clenched fist with an occasional propensity to sexual backsliding. He doubles as the young Sandy's psychiatrist, who states that "the homosexual patient is in a terrible fix. He derives pleasure from that which is most harmful. You have to redefine your idea of pleasure." And that means goodbye to Anton.
Michaela plays Sandy's wife with good-hearted understanding, and has a choice cameo as the young Sandy's twinkly mother in a flashback in which he thinks her every comment suggests that she knows he's gay. David Ewing doubles as the young Anton of nascent flamboyance and as the seductive young swindler who brings down Sandy's empire, while Paul Collins plays both the nearly pugilistic young Sandy and Sandy's future stepson.
Baitz seems to lose some control over his tightly bound play toward the end, with plot turns that seem more convenient than dramatically justified. But that is a brief cavil. The ruined Sandy, drinking himself to death in isolation, chillingly sums up the play: "The worst part of all of it is living to see an age where my shame, which I cherished like a magic ring, is now completely irrelevant. A joke. The whole world is gay now, and it's fine."
The Paris Letter will run at New Conservatory Theatre Center through Feb. 23. Tickets are $25-$45. Call 861-8972 or go nctcsf.org.